OF CALIF. LIBRABY, LOS AHGELES 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The world is so full of a number of things, 
Tm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 

ROBERT Louis STEVENSON. 



THE 
GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Selected and arranged 

By 
BLANCHE E. HERBERT 



"A merry heart doetb good like a medicine. 9 




BOSTON 
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 



Published, November, 1919 



COPYRIGHT, 1919, 
By LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD Co. 



All Rights Reserved 



The Good Cheer Book 



flotwoot) Press 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 

NORWOOD, MASS. 

U.S. A. 



" Let me live in my house by the side of the road 
And be a friend to man." 

Sam Walter Foil. 




2130256 



WHY THE GOOD CHEER BOOK? 

THE greatest war of the ages has passed, 
leaving in its wake maimed bodies, broken 
hearts, shattered hopes, unrealized ideals, soul- 
hunger, and menacing social and economic un- 
rest. Believing that the dawn of a new and 
finer social and spiritual day is rising through 
the fog and mist of the present pain and strug- 
gle, but that its final advent depends largely 
upon personal adjustment to the changing 
conditions of life, I modestly offer The Good 
Cheer Book as one of the aids in solving the 
great problems of the future. 

While many of the selections contained in 
this book are familiar, they impart something 
of the poise and confidence which one experi- 
ences when resting beneath the giant Sequoia 
trees which have reached heavenward for two 
thousand years or more. Generations have 
come and gone, and kingdoms have risen and 
fallen into decay, but still these great trees 
stand sturdily and peacefully, not as monu- 
ments in stone to the greatness of man, but as 

7 



WHY THE GOOD CHEER BOOK? 

a living promise of something enduring which 
may be ours. To linger in their sheltering 
presence and deep shadows, is to hush one's 
murmurings, and shame into oblivion one's 
petty desires and ambitions. So is it with 
many of the thoughts herein expressed. They 
pulsate with life, and we love them for their 
strength, beauty, and inspiration ; and we turn 
to them for rest, healing, and reassurance when 
we stray from the " Foot-Path to Peace " and 
forget that there are things which never die. 

Since we do not always realize that the boys 
and girls of to-day will be the citizens of to- 
morrow, and that the griefs and disappoint- 
ments of childhood, before the little ones are 
able to reason, are just as poignant as their 
joys are intense, and play an important part 
in the development of character, I have in- 
cluded a bit of appreciation and cheer for the 
children, with confidence that the grown-up 
children will find suggestion and refreshment 
in the sweetness and charm of youth. 

There are many people sick people, dis- 
couraged people, lonely people who need 
nothing so much as an understanding and sym- 
pathetic friend to help them to discover them- 

8 



WHY THE GOOD CHEER BOOK? 

selves and their power to create their own good 
cheer. May this little book prove to be such 
a friend. Phillips Brooks says, " We are 
haunted by an ideal life ; it is in our blood and 
will never be still." If The Good Cheer Book 
assists even one struggling soul to find the trail 
which leads outward and upward into the sun- 
light of his ideal, I shall feel richly rewarded. 
BLANCHE E. HERBERT. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

ANY anthology is necessarily an extended 
borrowing of the thoughts and expressions of 
others. The excuse, not to say justification, 
is that each act of borrowing is a tribute of 
praise, rendered in the hope of making the 
prized selections helpful to a still larger num- 
ber. 

Careful effort has been made to communi- 
cate with authors or those empowered to pro- 
tect their work, and if any have been over- 
looked who should have been consulted, it is 
hoped that the grateful general acknowledg- 
ment here made will be accepted as satis- 
factory. Thanks are due each of the following 
for special permission to use the selections 
indicated, all rights in which are in each case 
reserved by the owner of the copyright: 

Mme. Clara Gabrilowitsch for her very gracious 
permission to use a long selection from the works of 
her father, "Mark Twain." 

T. A. Daly and David McKay: "Da Colda Feet," 
from "Madrigali." 

xz 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Richard Le Gallienne: 'A Child's Evensong." 

Edwin Markham: "The Day and the Work," from 
his forthcoming volume "New Poems." 

Dr. Frank Crane and TJie American Magazine. 

Helen Keller : Three extracts from an interview by 
Edward Marshall. 

Edgar A. Guest and the Reilly & Lee Company: 
' ' The Out-of -Doors Man, " " Lullaby, " " Tied Down, ' ' 
"Bud's Views." 

Funk & Wagnalls Company: Extract from "The 
Sunny Side of the Street," by MarshaU P. Wilder. 

Houghton Mifflin Company: "Work," by Alice 
Gary; a number of selections from the writings of 
Ralph Waldo Emerson ; an extract from "A Rill from 
the Town Pump," by Nathaniel Hawthorne; "A Day 
of Sunshine," "Christmas Bells," "Children," 
"Maidenhood," by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; 
an extract from "The Vision of Sir Launfal," by 
James Russell Lowell; extracts from the works of 
Henry D. Thoreau; extracts from poems by John 
Greenleaf Whittier. All these selections are used by 
permission of, and by special arrangement with, 
Houghton Mifflin Company, the authorized publishers. 

C. S. Hammond & Company: "Duties of the 
Citizen," by Theodore Roosevelt. 

The Bobbs-Merrill Company: "0 Heart of Mine," 
"A Life-Lesson," and three short extracts from "The 
Biographical Edition of the Complete Works of James 
Whitcomb Riley." 

Ralph Waldo Trine and Dodd, Mead & Company: 
Extracts from "In Tune with the Infinite." 

Dodd, Mead & Company: Extracts from "The Blue 
12 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 



Bird," and "The Treasure of the Humble," by 
Maurice Maeterlinck; "Time to Tinker 'Roun'," 
"Little Brown Baby," "With the Lark," by Paul 
Laurence Dunbar. 

George H. Doran Company: Extract from "The 
Human Machine," by Arnold Bennett. 

Little, Brown & Company: Selection from "Nerves 
and Common Sense," by Annie Payson Call; " One 
Day at a Time," by Helen Hunt Jackson. 

W. B. Conkey Company: Extracts from poems by 
Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

B. W. Huebsch: Extracts from "The New Human- 
ism," by Edward Howard Griggs. 

Rudyard Kipling and Doubleday, Page & Company : 
"If." 

Charles Scribner's Sons: "Dreaming of Home," 
"Child and Mother," "Kissing Time," and selection 
from another poem by Eugene Field. 

John Kendrick Bangs: "Friends and Brothers." 

Southern Press Syndicate: Selections from poems 
by the "Bentztown Bard." 

Charlotte Perkins Gilman: "Recreation and Re- 
solve." 



" I want the book that truly tries 
A happy, hopeful help to be ; 
That is the book that takes the prize ! 
The cheerful book's the book for me." 



CONTENTS 

VAGI 

PART I 
THE DIAGNOSIS 17 

PART II 

THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE . 31 

PART III 

WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS . . 61 

Happiness 63 

Efficiency 79 

Civic Welfare 97 

PART IV 

TONICS FOR THE CHEERFUL LlFE . . . IOQ, 

I will talk Health instead of sickness . .ill 
I will talk Prosperity instead of failure . 123 
I will carry Good News instead of bad news 145 
I will tell the Cheerful Tale instead of the 

sad tale . . . il^L. r . .153 
I will mention my Blessings instead of my 

burdens 165 

'5 



CONTENTS 



I will speak of the Sunshine of yesterday 
and to-morrow instead of the clouds of 

to-day 223 

I will Encourage instead of criticise . .235 
I will be a Friend to every one . . .259 

PART V 

THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE . 269 

PART VI 

" IT Is BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY THAN TO 
ARRIVE" .... . . . 329 



16 



PARTI 
THE DIAGNOSIS 



1 A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance ; 
But by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken." 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



ABE you enjoying life? Do you feel a 
certain kind of expectancy and glad looking 
forward when you awake in the morning as 
to what the events of the day may bring to 
you? Or is it with an uneasy, disappointed, 
and somewhat guilty feeling that you find 
yourself when consciousness returns? Have 
you come to feel how insincere and degen- 
erate all the people around you have become, 
and how few people can really be trusted in 
the world to-day, and how little true religion 
there is, and what a hard time you have had, 
harder than any one else? Then there is 
something wrong with you. Not with life, 
nor with your fate or lot, but simply with you, 
with your own character. As the mother told 
her boy, you are one of the uninteresting good 
people who have lost their interest in the prob- 
lems of life, and so have become uninteresting. 

John Edgar Park. 
19 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

When one passes in review the individual 
causes that disturb and complicate our social 
life, by whatever names they are designated, 
and their list would be long, they all lead back 
to one general cause, which is this: the confu- 
sion of the secondary with the essential. Ma- 
terial comfort, education, liberty, the whole of 
civilization these things constitute the frame 
of the picture; but the frame no more makes 
the picture than the frock the monk or the 
uniform the soldier. Here the picture is man, 
and man with his most intimate possessions 
namely, his conscience, his character and his 
will. And while we have been elaborating and 
garnishing the frame, we have forgotten, 
neglected, disfigured the picture. Thus are we 
loaded with external good, and miserable in 
spiritual life ; we have in abundance that which, 
if must be, we can go without, and are infinitely 
poor in the one thing needful. And when the 
depth of our being is stirred, with its need of 
loving, aspiring, fulfilling its destiny, it feels 
the anguish of one buried alive is smothered 
under the mass of secondary things that weigh 
it down and deprive it of light and air. 

Charles Wagner. 

20 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



The world is too much with us ; late and soon, 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : 
Little we see in Nature that is ours; 
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; 
The winds that will be howling at all hours, 
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; 
It moves us not. Great God ! I'd rather be 
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn. 

William Wordsworth. 



ARE YOU GETTING ANYWHERE? 

You are rushing, you are straining, with a grim 

look on your face: 
You are turning from all pleasures; in your 

breast peace has no place; 
You have ceased to find contentment in the nooks 

you used to know; 
You have ceased to care for others whom you 

clung to long ago: 
You are straining, you are striving through the 

dark days and the fair, 
But, O mirthless, eager brother, are you getting 

anywhere? 

21 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



In your haste you have forgotten how to linger 
or to smile 

When a child looks up and greets you or would 
claim your care a while ; 

Though the wild rose sheds its petals in the 
lonely pasture still, 

And glad breezes sway the blossoms in the 
orchard on the hill 

You are too much in a hurry, and too occupied 
to care, 

But, with all your grim endeavors, are you get- 
ting anywhere? 

You have fled from sweet contentment; trouble 
haunts you in your dreams ; 

It is long since you have loitered on the banks of 
shaded streams 

That go singing to the pebbles they have made 
so clean and white 

And have polished at their leisure and their 
pleasure day and night; 

You no longer know the solace that is in a sweet 
old air, 

But, with all your ceaseless moiling, are you get- 
ting anywhere? 

You have given up old fancies, you have left old 

friends behind; 
You are getting rich in pocket, but are poor in 

heart and mind; 
You have lost your sense of beauty in your haste 

to push ahead, 
And along the ways you travel bitterness and 

grief are spread; 

22 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



You have ceased to care how others bend be- 
neath the woes they bear, 

But, with all your cruel striving, are you getting 
anywhere? 

5". . Kiser. 



QUIET WAYS ARE BEST 

What's the use of worrying, 
Of hurrying, 
And scurrying, 
Everybody flurrying, 

And breaking up their rest? 
When every one is teaching us, 
Preaching and beseeching us, 
To settle down and end the fuss, 
For quiet ways are best. 



The rain that trickles down in showers 
A blessing brings to thirsty flowers. 
Sweet fragrance from each brimming cup 
The gentle zephyrs gather up. 
There's ruin in the tempest's path; 
There's ruin in a voice of wrath; 

And they alone are blest 
Who early learn to dominate 
Themselves, their violence abate, 
And prove, by their serene estate, 

That quiet ways are best. , 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Nothing's gained by worrying, 
By hurrying, 
And scurrying; 
With fretting and with flurrying 

The temper's often lost; 
And in pursuit of some small prize 
We rush ahead and are not wise, 
And find the unwonted exercise 
A fearful price has cost. 

'Tis better far to join the throng 
That do their duty right along; 
Reluctant they to raise a fuss, 
Or make themselves ridiculous. 
Calm and serene in heart and nerve, 
Their strength is always in reserve, 

And nobly stands each test; 
And every day and all about, 
By scenes within and scenes without, 
We can discern, with ne'er a doubt, 

That quiet ways are best. 

The Christian Commonwealth. 



I would give up all the mind 
In the prim city's hoard can find 
House with its scrap-art bedight, 
Straightened manners of the street, 
Smoothed voiced society 
If so the swiftness of the wind 
24 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



Might pass into my feet; 

If so the sweetness of the wheat 

Into my soul might pass, 

And the clear courage of the grass; 

If the lark caroled in my song; 

If one tithe of the faithfulness 

Of the bird mother with her brood 

Into my selfish heart might press, 

And make me also instinct good. 

Edward Rowland Sill. 



ALL OF US 

We sit in a little mist of days, 

'Neath the gloom of a cloudy sky, 

And some one whispers and some one prays 

For the shadows to flutter by. 

And we toil and mend and play our part, 

And worry and fret and moan 

And that's because in the human heart 

We think too much of our own. 

We think too much of our own content, 

Of the kind of pleasure that suits; 

Of the kind of weather that's over us bent, 

And our share of life's fruits; 

Of our aches and pains and grief and glee, 

Our comfort and fame and pride 

And the I and the You and the great big Me 

Are the stakes to which we're tied. 

If we were broader, as fellow-men, 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



We'd smile and we'd sing together, 
Comrades of life in the world again 
In every condition of weather. 
And instead of a little mist of days 
This earth would swim with shining, 
And lift its voice in a shout of praise 
Instead of a wail and whining. 

Folger M'Kinsey f 



DAY BY DAY 

Give me my tithe of strength to walk the way; 
By work, and not by tinkling platitudes; to 

show 

A steadfastness that, growing day by day, 
Helps others, and the inner-me, to grow; 
A sturdy will, before my course is run, 
To see beyond the shadowings, the sun ! 



Who does not sometimes feel life not worth 

while, 

Or curse the fight that wearies brain and soul, 
Is dead indeed! . . . Those triumph most 

who smile 

When mists of doubt obscure the Final Goal. 
Then, give us strength, when in the valley's 

gloom, 

To note that on the hills the flowers bloom! 
26 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



Again, and yet again, my work will fail 

To measure to the simple standard set; 
Despite resolves, the calmest soul must quail 
And care so little, it grows numb . . . And 

yet 
Grant me, with other things, one touch of 

mirth 

And I will make my heaven here on earth ! 

Cincinnati Times-Star. 



IN THE CITY PENT 

Oh, sweet at this sweet hour to wander free, 
Or follow some invisible beckoning hand, 
Among the moody mountains, where they 

stand 
Awed with the thought of their own majesty ! 

Sweet, at the folding up of day, to be 
Where, on the tattered fringes of the land, 
The uncourted flowers of the penurious sand 
Are pale against the pale lips of the sea. 

Sweetest to dream, on easeful earth reclined, 
Far in some forest's ancient idleness, 
Under the shadow of its bossy boles, 

Beyond the world's pursuit and Care's access, 

And hear the wild feet of the elfin wind, 
Dancing and prancing in mad caprioles. 

William Watson. 
27 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



A WOMAN'S WISH 

Would I were lying in a field of clover, 
Of clover cool and soft, and sweet, 

With dusky clouds in deep skies hanging over, 
And scented silence at my head and feet. 



Ah! it were sweet, where clover clumps are 
meeting 

And daisies hiding, so to hide and rest; 
No sound except my own heart's sturdy beating, 

Rocking itself to sleep within my breast. 



Just to lie there, filled with the deeper breathing 
That comes of listening to a wild bird's song! 

Our souls require at times this full unsheath- 
ing 
All swords will rust if scabbard kept too long. 



And I am tired so tired of rigid duty, 
So tired of all my tired hands find to do! 

I yearn, I faint, for some of life's free beauty, 
Its loose beats with no straight string running 
through ! 

Ay, laugh, if laugh you will at my crude speech, 

But women sometimes die of such a greed, 
Die for the small joys held beyond their reach, 
And the assurance they have all they need ! 

Mary Ashley Townsend. 
28 



THE DIAGNOSIS 



Sit down, sad soul, and count 

The moments flying: 
Come tell the sweet amount 

That's lost by sighing! 
How many smiles? a score? 
Then laugh, and count no more, 

For day is dying. 

Lie down, sad soul, and sleep, 

And no more measure 
The flight of Time, nor weep 

The loss of leisure; 
But here, by this lone stream, 
Lie down with us, and dream 

Of starry treasure. 

We dream do thou the same; 

We love forever; 
We laugh, yet few we shame, 

The gentle, never. 
Stay, then, till Sorrow dies ; 
Then hope and happy skies 

Are thine forever. 

Bryan W. Procter. 



GOOD CHEER 

How shall I come to meet you, 
Dear tenant of my thought? 

I send my song to greet you 
Lest you be all distraught. 
29 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Think not if grief is wetting 
Your lattice bars with rain, 

That I am all forgetting 
The face behind the pane. 

A full-strung heart shall send you 
Winged message o'er the miles, 

And sunny skies forefend you 
Lest you be strange to smiles. 

A bird sings : " Morrow, morrow " 

All in the sweetest way. 
We shall not rhyme with sorrow 

Forever and a day. 

Up hope and heart of gladness, 
Good cheer can mend the ill. 

Here's wings to laggard sadness, 
And welcome, goodly will! 

My four-o'-clocks are climbing 
Sheer skyward from the sod, 

And all the garden chiming 
With orisons to God. 

C. H. Crandall. 



" If a man comes not to gather 
The roses where they stand, 
They fade among the foliage: 
They cannot seek his hand." 

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 
Which we ascribe to heaven. 

Shakespeare. 
3 



PARTH 

THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL 
LIFE 



Take joy home, 

And make a place in thy heart for her, 
And give her time to grow, and cherish her ; 
Then -will she come, and oft will sing to thee, 
When thou art working in the furrows. 

JEAN INGELOW. 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL 
LIFE 



LET'S BE HAPPY HERE 

Let's be happy here, lads, and who shall whine or 

care! 
A hymn is in the morning and the night is sweet 

with prayer! 
The boughs are full of fruit, men, and life is full 

of sweet; 

In spite of all the heartache, there shall be no 
defeat! 

There shall be no defeat, lads, 

For in our souls shall rise 
The light that gives the victory, 
The hope that paints the skies! 

Let's be happy here, lads, and as things come 

and go, 
Stand up to face the issue, stand up to face the 

blow! 
The strife shall end in triumph, the spring shall 

be our own, 
And we shall tread the world, lads, where winds 

of May are blown! 

33 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Where winds of May in sweetness 

O'er Maryland hills and vales 
Shall kiss the morns with beauty 
And fill the white ship-sails! 

Bentztown Bard. 
Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 



Make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts, 
bright fancies, faithful sayings; treasure- 
houses of precious and restful thoughts, which 
care cannot disturb, nor poverty take away 
from you, houses built without hands for 
your souls to live in. 

John Ruskin. 



GOD IS EVERYWHERE 

There is nothing to know but Truth, 
There is nothing to do but love ; 
There is no place to go where God is not 
The wide, wide world is a garden spot 
Where the flowers of Truth eternally bloom, 
Where the tares and weeds can find no room, 
For there is no place where God is not 

Jane Grey Syme. 
34 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



THE MIRACLE OF MORNING 

I felt the potent pulsing of the dawn, 

The throbbing of the ether fields from far, 
'Twas the miracle of morning drawing on 

And the fading of the silent silver star; 
God's morning, swinging down without a jar, 

With a glory on the leafage and the lawn 
There was just a trace of color in the sky, 

A pinkish scintillation, that was all; 
But the day had kissed the waning night 
good-by, 

And the silent world was waking at the call ; 
The watchful cricket told it to its mate, 

The thrushes heard with rapture on the 

lawn, 
And every bud and blossom was elate 

With the miracle of morning drawing on. 

Charles D. Lakey. 



NATURE'S SECRET 

I know a green bank where anemones grow 

And daisies and buttercups too; 
And where the sweet violets open their eyes 

To the color of heaven's own blue. 

The apple trees pink with the blossoms of May 

A fragrance distill on the air, 
And breezes all gently in passing them by 

Kiss softly their petals so fair. 

35 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Adown through the meadow a river flows by, 

Like a ribbon its pathway is seen, 
And close to its winding on either green bank 

Are willows of tender-hued green. 

The hills in their new budding verdure look 
down 

And smile on the valleys below, 
And the bobolink sings o'er his nest in the grass 

Where cowslips and pimpernels grow. 

O Nature, whose heart-throbs in winter are 

stilled, 

What think you of spring and its bloom? 
What force has impelled you to clothe the broad 

earth 
With beauty bright spun from your loom? 

For answer we read from each sweet-scented 

flower, 

And from the wild bird as it sings ; 
'Tis God in the blossoms, 'tis God in the breeze, 
Tis God in the heart of all things. 

Josephine Canning. 



FRIENDS AND BROTHERS 

Why folks complain of loneliness 
Is strange to me, I must confess; 
Why, every brook, and every tree, 
And every twinkling star I see, 
Hath something good to say to me! 
36 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



If you would find a comradeship 

That through the years will never slip, 

Be friends with all the stars of night, 

Greet all God's creatures with delight 

The breeze that blows, the bird that sings, 

The seas with mystic murmurings. 

The stranger on the highway too 

Is brother unto me and you, 

In that great family a part 

Whose home lies in the human heart! 

John Kendrick Bangs. 



Let me go where'er I will 

I hear a sky-born music still : 

It sounds from all things old, 

It sounds from all things young. 

From all that's fair, from all that's foul, 

Peals out a cheerful song. 

It is not only in the rose, 

It is not only in the bird, 

Not only where the rainbow glows, 

Nor in the song of woman heard, 

But in the darkest, meanest things 

There alway, alway something sings. 

'Tis not in the high stars alone, 
Nor in the cups of budding flowers, 
Nor in the red breast's mellow tone, 
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers, 
But in the rnud and scum of things 
There alway, alway something sings. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
37 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Have you found your life distasteful? 

My life did and does smack sweet 
Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? 

Mine I saved and hold complete. 
Do your joys with age diminish? 

When mine fail me, I'll complain. 
Must in death your daylight finish? 

My sun sets to rise again. 

Robert Browning. 



SELF-DEPENDENCE 

Weary of myself, and sick of asking 

What I am, and what I ought to be, 

At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me 

Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea. 

And a look of passionate desire 

O'er the sea and to the stars I send : 

" Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd 

me, 
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end ! 

" Ah," once more, I cried, " ye stars, ye waters, 
On my heart your mighty charm renew; 
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, 
Feel my soul becoming vast like you ! " 

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of 

heaven, 

Over the lit sea's unquiet way, 
In the rustling night-air came the answer: 
" Would'st thou be as these are? Live as they. 

38 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Unaffrighted by the silence round them, 

Undistracted by the sights they see, 

These demand not that the things without 

them 
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. 

And with joy the stars perform their shining, 
And the sea its long moon silver'd roll; 
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting 
All the fever of some differing soul. 

Bounded by themselves, and unregardful 
In what state God's other works may be, 
In their own tasks all their powers pouring, 
These attain the mighty life you see." 

O air-born voice ! long since, severely clear, 
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear: 
Resolve to be thyself; and know, that he 
Who finds himself, loses his misery ! " 

Matthew Arnold. 



'MY HEART LEAPS UP" 

My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbow in the sky : 
So was it when my life began ; 
So is it now I am a Man ; 
So be it when I shall grow old, 
Or let me die ! 

William Wordsworth. 
39 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOR- 
EVER 

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: 

Its loveliness increases; it will never 

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep 

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet 

breathing. 

Therefore, on every morrow are we wreathing 
A flowery band to bind us to the earth, 
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth 
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, 
Of all the unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways 
Made for our searching; yes, in spite of all, 
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall 
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, 
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon 
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils 
With the green world they live in; and clear rills 
That for themselves a cooling covert make 
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, 
Rich with sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms : 
And such, too, is the grandeur of the dooms 
We have imagined for the mighty dead. 
All lovely tales that we have heard or read; 
An endless fountain of immortal drink, 
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink. 

John Keats. 



40 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Up ! up ! my Friend, and quit your books ; 
Or surely you'll grow double; 
Up ! up ! my Friend, and clear your looks ; 
Why all this toil and trouble? 

Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife; 
Come, hear the woodland Linnet, 
How sweet his music! on my life, 
There's more of wisdom in it. 

And hark ! how blithe the Throstle sings ! 
He, too, is no mean preacher: 
Come forth into the light of things, 
Let Nature be your teacher. 

She has a world of ready wealth, 
Our minds and hearts to bless 
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, 
Truth breathed by cheerfulness. 

One impulse from a vernal wood 
May teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil and of good 
Than all the sages can. 

Come forth and bring with you a heart 
That watches and receives. 

William Wordsworth. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE OUT-OF-DOORS MAN 

There's something to this life, I say, when all the 

skies are blue, 
And trees are turning green once more, and all 

the grass is new; 
There's more than gold and more than fame to 

gather through the years; 
It's good to be on hand to greet the robin that 

appears; 
It's good to feel the earth grow warm beneath 

the kindly sun, 
To wander out of doors once more and know a 

wanderer's fun. 



When Nature wakes her children gay, and 

dresses them anew 
In all their frocks and calico in every style and 

hue, 
And turns them loose, it seems to me they miss 

a lot who hold 
That life is just a round of strife for earthly fame 

and gold ; 
For flowers and birds and shady woods and 

every breeze that blows 
Hold just as sweet enchantments as the ones 

that wealth bestows. 



He has not spent his life in vain who loves the 

patch of blue 
Above his head when days are fair, and walks the 

meadows through. 

42 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



And he who whistles to his dog and tramps with 
him the fields, 

Has found a source of happiness that money sel- 
dom yields. 

And who shall say he is not rich, though little 
gold he spends, 

Who has the trees for comrades true and singing 
birds for friends? 

There's something to this life, I say, far more 

than wealth or fame; 
There is a splendid happiness which every man 

may claim. 
And when the green is on the trees and all the 

brooks are clear, 
There comes a balm for every ache, a smile for 

every tear. 
For he who steals the hours from toil to claim 

the joys of spring 
Thanks God that he has lived once more to hear 

the robins sing. 

Edgar A. Guest. 

Copyrighted, 1919, by Edgar A. Guest. 



Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 

When our mother Nature laughs around; 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 
And gladness breathes from the blossoming 
ground? 

43 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and 

wren, 
And the gossip of swallows through all the 

sky; 

The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 

The clouds are at play in the azure space, 
And their shadows at play on the bright green 
vale, 

And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
And there they roll on the easy gale. 



There's dance of leaves in that aspen bower, 

There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, 
There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the 

flower, 

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the 
sea. 



And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 

On the leaping waters and gay young isles ; 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away. 

William Cullen Bryant. 



44 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



SUMMAH'S COMIN' 

Doan yer hear dat bluebird sing? 

Lis'en, chile! 

He so glad, he know it spring, 
Fill he throat an' flap he wing, 
Lawd ! whut peace dat souf wind bring, 

Sorf an' mile! 

Seem jes lak de wuld done sick 

Er bein' froze. 

Winds dat makes yer move so quick, 
Swimmin'-pools all hard an' slick, 
But dat sun '11 do de trick 

'Mos' 'fore yer knows! 

Saw a yaller flowah ter-day, 

Down de road, 
Standin' up an' lookin' gay, 
Same ez ef it wanter say: 
" Wintah, he done skeert away." 

Spec' it knowed ! 

Heerd de crick er-singin* low, 

Sorter hummin'; 

See how dull dat flan-wood glow! 
Watch de grass commence ter grow. 
'Mos' believe de whole wuld know 

Summah's comin' ! 

s : Leigh Mitchell Hodges. 



45 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Now is the high-tide of the year, 

And whatever of life hath ebbed away 
Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer, 

Into every bare inlet and creek and bay; 
Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, 
We are happy now because God wills it; 
No matter how barren the past may have been, 
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are 

green ; 

We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; 
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help 

knowing 

That skies are clear and grass is growing; 
The breeze comes whispering in our ear, 
That dandelions are blossoming near, 

That maise has sprouted, that streams are 

flowing, 

That the river is bluer than the sky, 
That the robin is plastering his house hard by; 
And if the breeze kept the good news back, 
For other couriers we should not lack; 

We could guess it all by yon heifer's low- 
ing, 

And hark ! how clear and bold chanticleer, 
Warmed with the new wine of the year, 

Tells all in his lusty crowing! 

James Russell Lowell. 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL UFE 



THE HEART'S SPRINGTIDE 

The birds have come back to my heart, 

'Tis May! 
The crocus and hyacinth start 

'Tis May! 

From a Springtide of dreams 
And a carol of streams, 
A song has shot high in my heart 

'Tis May! 

The Winter is white on the bough- 
You say? 

And May but a mystery now 
You say? 

Nay, if lost in the blue 

They were singing to you 

The bloom would lie white on the bough ! 
Nay, nay 



The thrilling of shivering wings 

To-day ! 
The greening and growing of things 

To-day ! 

The shining and flowing 
And sweeting and blowing 
Would fill the air under your wings 

To-day! 

Martha Gilbert Dickinson. 



47 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



COMFORT 

Oh, every year hath its winter, 

And every year hath its rain 
But a day is always coming 

When the birds go north again. 

When the new leaves swell in the forest, 
And the grass springs green on the plain 

And the alder's veins turn crimson, 
And the birds go north again. 

Oh, every heart hath its sorrow, 
And every heart hath its pain, 

But a day is always coming 

When the birds go north again. 

"Tis the sweetest thing to remember 

If courage be on the wane, 
When the cold, dark days are over, 

Why, the birds go north again. 

Ella Higginson. 



TO A SKY-LARK 

Up with me! up with me into the clouds I 

For thy song, Lark, is strong; 
Up with me, up with me into the clouds ! 

Singing, singing, 
With clouds and sky about thee ringing, 

Lift me, guide me till I find 
That spot which seems to thy mind ! 
48 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



I have walked through wilderness dreary, 

And to-day my heart is weary; 

Had I now the wings of a Faery, 

Up to thee would I fly. 

There's madness about thee, and joy divine 

In that song of thine; 

Lift me, guide me high and high 

To thy banqueting-place in the sky. 

Joyous as the morning, 
Thou art laughing and scorning; 
Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, 
And, though little troubled with sloth, 
Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth 
To be such a traveller as I. 
Happy, happy Liver, 

With a soul as strong as a mountain river 
Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, 
Joy and jollity be with us both ! 



Alas ! my journey, rugged and uneven, 
Through prickly moors or dusty ways must 

wind 

But hearing thee, or others of thy kind, 
As full of gladness and as free of heaven, 
I, with my fate contented, will plod on, 
And hope for higher raptures, when Life's day 

is done. 

William Wordsworth. 



49 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE HUMBLE-BEE 

Burly, dozing humble-bee, 
Where thou art is clime for me. 
Let them sail for Porto Rique, 
Far-off heats through seas to seek; 
I will follow thee alone, 
Thou animated torrid-zone! 
Zigzag steerer, desert cheerer, 
Let me chase thy waving lines; 
Keep me nearer, me thy hearer, 
Singing over shrubs and vines. 

Hot mid-summer's petted crone, 
Sweet to me thy drowsy tone 
Tells of countless sunny hours, 
Long days, and solid banks of flowers ; 
Of gulfs and sweetness without bound 
In Indian wildernesses found; 
Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure, 
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure. 

Aught unsavoury or unclean 
Hath my insect never seen; 
But violets and bilberry bells, 
Maple-sap and daffodels, 
Grass with green flag half-mast high, 
Succory to match the sky, 
Columbine with horn of honey, 
Scented fern, and agrimony, 
Clover, catchfly, adder's-tongue, 
And brier-roses, dwelt among; 
All beside was unknown waste, 
All was picture as he passed. 
So 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Wiser far than human seer, 
Yellow-breeched philosopher! 
Seeing only what is fair, 
Sipping only what is sweet, 
Thou dost mock at fate and care, 
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



A DAY OF SUNSHINE 

gift of God! O perfect day: 
Whereon shall no man work, but play; 
Whereon it is enough for me, 

Not to be doing, but to be ! 

Through every fibre of my brain, 
Through every nerve, through every vein, 

1 feel the electric thrill, the touch 
Of life, that seems almost too much. 

I hear the wind among the trees 
Playing celestial symphonies; 
I see the branches downward bent, 
Like keys of some great instrument. 

And over me unrolls on high 
The splendid scenery of the sky, 
Where through a sapphire sea the sun 
Sails like a golden galleon. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Blow, winds ! and waft through all the rooms 
The snow-flakes of the cherry-blooms! 
Blow, winds ! and bend within my reach 
The fiery blossoms of the peach! 

O Life and Love! O happy throng 
Of thoughts, whose only speech is song! 
O heart of man ! canst thou not be 
Blithe as the air is, and as free? 

Henry W. Long-fellow. 



"I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD" 

I wandered lonely as a Cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host of golden Daffodils; 

Beside the Lake, beneath the trees, 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle in the milky way, 
They stretched in never-ending line 
Along the margin of a bay; 
Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced, but they 
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee : 
A poet could not but be gay, 
In such a jocund company; 
I gazed and gazed but little thought 
What wealth the show to me had brought: 
52 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



For oft, when on my couch I lie 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 

They flash upon that inward eye 

Which is the bliss of solitude, 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the Daffodils. 

William Wordsworth. 



There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 

There is society, where none intrudes, 
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: 
I love not man the less, but Nature more, 

From these our interviews, in which I steal 
From all I may be, or have been before, 

To mingle with the Universe, and feel 

What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all con- 
ceal. 

Lord Byron. 



THE SEA 

The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea! 
The blue, the fresh, the ever free! 
Without a mark, without a bound, 
It runneth the earth's wide regions round; 
It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies; 
Or like a cradled creature lies. 
53 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



I'm on the sea! I'm on the sea! 

I am where I would ever be; 

With the blue above, and the blue below, 

And silence wheresoe'er I go; 

If a storm should come and wake the deep, 

What matter? I shall ride and sleep. 

I love (oh ! how I love) to ride 
On the fierce foaming, bursting tide, 
When every mad wave drowns the moon, 
Or whistles aloft his tempest tune, 
And tells how goeth the world below, 
And why the southwest blasts do blow. 

Bryan W. Procter. 



When heats as of a tropic clime 

Burned all our inland valleys through, 

Three friends, the guests of summer time, 
Pitched their white tents where sea-winds 
blew. 

They rested there, escaped awhile 

From cares that wear the life away, 
To eat the lotus of the Nile 

And drink the poppies of Cathay, 
To fling their loads of custom down, 
Like drift-weed, on the sand-slopes brown, 
And in the sea waves drown the restless pack 
Of duties, claims, and needs that barked upon 

their track. 

John Greenleaf Whittier. 

54 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



The little cares that fretted me, 

I lost them yesterday among the fields 

above the sea, 

Among the winds at play: 
Among the lowing of the herds, 
The rustling of the trees, 
Among the singing of the birds 
The humming of the bees, 
The foolish fears of what may happen 
I cast them all away 
Among the clover-scented grass, 
Among the new-mown hay; 
Among the husking of the corn 
Where drowsy poppies nod, 
Where ill thoughts die and good are born, 
Out in the fields with God. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



THE HEART OF THE HILLS 

There's a wonderful country lying 
Far off from the noisy town, 

Where the windflower swings, 
And the veery sings, 
And the tumbling brooks come down; 
J Tis a land of light and of laughter, 
Where peace all the woodland fills; 
'Tis the land that lies 
'Neath the summer skies, 
In the heart of the happy hills. 
55 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The road to that wonderful country 
Leads out from the gates of care; 

And the tired feet 

In the dusty street 
Are longing to enter there; 
And a voice from that land is calling, 
In the rush of a thousand rills, 

" Come away, away, 

To the woods to-day, 
To the heart of the happy hills." 

Far away in that wonderful country, 
Where the clouds are always blue, 
In the shadows cool, 
By the foaming pool, 
We may put on strength anew; 
We may drink from the magic fountains, 
Where the wine of life distills; 
And never a care 
Shall find us there, 
In the heart of the happy hills. 

Boston Transcript. 



Enter this wild wood 

And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade 
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze 
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a 

balm 

To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men 
And made thee loathe thy life. 

William Cullen Bryant. 
56 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 

The tempered light of the woods is like a 
perpetual morning, and is stimulating and 
heroic. The anciently reported spells of these 
places creep on us. The incommunicable trees 
begin to persuade us to live with them and 
quit our life of solemn trifles. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



I went to the woods because I wished to live 
deliberately, to front only the essential facts of 
life, and see if I could not learn what it had 
to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover 
that I had not lived. I did not wish to live 
what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I 
wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite 
necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out 
all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and 
Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not 
life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to 
drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its 
lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why 
then to get the whole and genuine meanness of 
it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if 
it were sublime, to know it by experience, and 

57 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

be able to give a true account of it in my next 
excursion. For most men, it appears to me, 
are in a strange uncertainty about it. 

Henry D. Thoreau. 



It's the great, big, broad land 'way up yonder; 
It's the forests where silence has lease; 
It's the beauty that thrills me with wonder; 
It's the stillness that fills me with peace." 



THE CALL OF THE WILD 

Have you gazed on naked grandeur where 

there's nothing else to gaze on, 
Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore, 
Big mountains heaved to heaven, which the 

blinding sunsets blazon, 

Black canyons where the rapids rip and roar? 
Have you swept the visioned valley with the 

green stream streaking through it, 
Searched the Vastness for a something you 

have lost? 
Have you strung your soul to silence? Then 

for God's sake go and do it; 
Hear the challenge, learn the lesson, pay the 
cost. 

58 



THE LURE OF THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Have you known the Great White Silence, not a 

snow-gemmed twig a-quiver? 
(Eternal truths that shame our soothing lies.) 
Have you broken trail on snowshoes, mushed 

your huskies up the river, 
Dared the unknown, led the way, and clutched 

the prize? 

Have you marked the map's void spaces, min- 
gled with the mongrel races, 
Felt the savage strength of brute in every 

thew? 
And though grim as hell the worst is, can you 

round it off with curses? 
Then hearken to the Wild it's wanting you. 

They have cradled you in custom, they have 

primed you with their preaching, 
They have soaked you in convention through 

and through; 
They have put you in a showcase; you're a credit 

to their teaching 

But can't you hear the Wild it's calling you. 
Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what 

luck betide us; 

Let us journey to a lonely land I know. 
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a 

star agleam to guide us, 
And the Wild is calling, calling let us go. 

Robert W. Service. 



59 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



RECREATION 

Oh, hurry, People, hurry! 

You are missing all the show! 
The great green earth a-spinning, 

The midnight skies aglow, 
The whirl of circling seasons, 

The dance of flying days, 
The scented shadowy forests, 

The still blue water ways, 
The meadows white like snow, 

The meadows red and gold 

with flowers 
Oh, hurry, People, hurry ! 

You are missing all the show I 

Why are you waiting, People? 

Leave your flat walls and floors, 
There's room for everybody, 

It's simply all out doors. 
There's time for everybody 

To have three months to play, 
We needn't work the hours we do, 

We needn't work that way. 
We can arrange a whole new game 

And show our children how 
Why are you waiting, People? 

Why don't you do it now? 

Charlotte Perkins Gilman. 



God's in His Heaven 
All's right with the world ! 

Robert Browning. 
60 



PARTIH 
WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS 



HAPPINESS 



"How good is man's life / the mere living ! bow jit t 

employ 
All the heart and soul and the senses forever injey/" 



HAPPINESS 



" Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn ! 

Look to this Day! 
For it is Life, the very Life of Life. 
In its brief course lie all the 
Verities and Realities of your Existence; 
The Bliss of Growth, 
The Glory of Action, 
The Splendor of Beauty: 
For Yesterday is but a Dream, 
And To-morrow is only a Vision; 

But to-day well lived makes 
Every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness, 
And every To-morrow a Vision of Hope." 



" If solid happiness we prize, 
Within our breast this jewel lies, 

And they are fools that roam, 
This world has nothing to bestow, 
From our own selves our joy must flow, 
And peace begins at home." 
65 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

It's no' in books, it's no' in lear, 

To make us truly blest; 
If happiness has not her seat 

And center in the breast, 
We may be wise, or rich, or great, 

But never can be blest. 

Robert Burns. 



The art of living -consists in the wise choice 
of satisfactions. If we choose the fleshly, 
they do not last; we are eventually bored and 
wretched. If we choose the higher, they reveal 
themselves as more permanent, growing by 
what they feed on. So it is a question of 
whether you want to be happy a little while or 
all the time. 

The mind and conscience are the latest 
products of evolution. The body runs back to 
the beasts. If your joys are in the mind, you 
can say, in the language of a modern philos- 
opher, " We have a degree of existence at 
least ten times larger than others; in other 
words, we exist ten times as much." 

Test yourself, then. What do you like best? 

Beer and beef arfd sleep, and slippered ease 

66 



HAPPINESS 

and dancing and the chase? Does it most 
irritate you to be deprived of these things? 
Do you get petulant when you cannot have 
luxury, fine clothes, prominence, and all such? 
Well, all the world is like that, not necessarily 
wicked but just Common. The hope is that 
you are dissatisfied with yourself. 

But do you like like, mark you, not say 
you like do you like Mona Lisa or Chopin's 
Ballade or Walter Pater's writing or prayer 
or a new idea or a beautiful woodland, so much 
that you would miss a meal or forego being in- 
troduced to an ambassador, for the sake of 
enjoying them? Then rejoice! For you tread 
a narrow way, and few there be that find it. 
You may be many things reprehensible, but 
you are not Common. 

Dr. Frank Crane. 



PEACE 

'Tis not in seeking, 

'Tis not in endless striving, 

Thy quest is found ; 
Be still and listen; 
Be still and drink the quiet 

Of all around. 
67 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Not for thy crying, 

Not for thy loud beseeching, 

Will peace draw near; 
Rest with palms folded; 
Rest with thine eyelids fallen 

Lo! peace is here. 

Edward Rowland Sill. 



Happiness cannot come from without. It 
must come from within. It is not that which 
we see or touch or feel, or that which others do 
for us which makes us happy it is that which 
we think and feel and do, first, ..." for 
the other fellow," and then for ourselves. 

I know that inability to see, inability to hear, 
inability of normal speech, cannot shut happi- 
ness away from one who loves and is loved, 
from one who works, and, like all workers, in- 
evitably gains the pay for labor, from one who 
wishes all men well, and tries, however humbly, 
to be helpful, believing that fundamentally all 
men are good. 



Helen Keller. 



Copyrighted by Edward Marshall Syndicate. 
(From an Interview.) 



68 



HAPPINESS 

" I do not mean that we are to go and search 
for unhappiness; but on the other hand, the 
only happiness worth seeking for is a happi- 
ness which takes all these dark things into ac- 
count, looks them in the face, reads the secret 
of their dim eyes and set lips, dwells with them, 
and learns to be tranquil in their presence." 



OPEN THE DOOR 

Open the door, let in the air; 
The winds are sweet and the flowers are fair. 
Joy is abroad in the world to-day : 
If our door is wide it may come this way 
Open the door! 

Open the door, let in the sun; 
He hath a smile for every one; 
He hath made of the raindrops gold and gems, 
He may change our tears to diadems 
Open the door! 

Open the door of the soul, let in 
Strong, pure thoughts which shall banish sin ; 
They will grow and bloom with a grace divine, 
And their fruit shall be sweeter than that of 
the vine 

Open the door! 
69 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Open the door of the heart, let in 
Sympathy sweet for stranger and kin; 
It will make the halls of the heart so fair 
That angels may enter unaware 
Open the door! 

British Weekly. 



THE MURMUR OF A WATERFALL 

The murmur of a waterfall 

A mile away, 
The rustle when a robin lights 

Upon a spray, 
The lapping of a lowland stream 

On dripping boughs, 
The sound of grazing from a herd 

Of gentle cows, 
The echo from the wooded hill 

Of cuckoo's call, 
The quiver through the meadow grass 

At evening fall : 
Too subtle are these harmonies 

For pen and rule; 
Such music is not understood 

By any school; 
But when the brain is overwrought 

It hath a spell, 
Beyond all human skill and power 

To make it well. 
70 



HAPPINESS 



The memory of a kindly word 

For long gone by, 
The fragrance of a fading flower 

Sent lovingly, 
The gleaming of a sudden smile 

Or sudden tear, 
The warmer pressure of the hand, 

The tone of cheer, 
The hush that means " I cannot speak, 

But I have heard!" 
The note that only bears a verse 

From God's own Word : 
Such tiny things we hardly count 

As ministry; 
The givers deeming they have shown 

Scant sympathy; 
But when the heart is overwrought, 

Oh, who can tell 
The power of such tiny things 

To make it well ? 

Frances Ridley Havergol. 



GRANT ME THY PEACE! 

Lord, through the coming year I make no plea 
For wealth or power; neither that of grief 
I have no portion ; but where'er I be, 
Grant me Thy peace! 

I ask not that my days shall pleasure know: 
Nor that from sorrow I shall find relief; 
In hours of joy, in hours of pain or woe, 
Grant me Thy peace! 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



If storm-clouds lower, if the sky be gray 
And lightnings rift the air; if stormy seas 
Threaten to me engulf, dear Lord, I pray, 
Grant me Thy peace! 

If those I trust deny me, or betray, 
Till sorrow's chalice holds but bitter lees; 
If hopes, long cherished, fail me by the way, 
Grant me Thy peace! 

If joy bids fair to be my welcome guest 
Lest I forget oh, leave me not alone; 
But let my happy heart have added zest; 
Grant me Thy peace! 

That peace which passeth understanding, give. 
A peace which deadens pain when hope hath 

flown 

In joy, in grief, whether I die or live, 
Grant me Thy peace ! 

Elisabeth Crannell. 



CHARACTER OF THE HAPPY WARRIOR 

'Tis, finally, the man, who, lifted high, 
Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye, 
Or left unthought-of in obscurity, 
Who, with a toward or untoward lot, 
Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not, 
Plays, in the many games of life, that one 
Where what he most doth value must be won: 
73 



HAPPINESS 



Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, 
Nor thought of tender happiness betray; 
Who, not content that former worth stand fast, 
Looks forward, persevering to the last, 
From well to better, daily self-surpast; 
Who, whether praise of him must walk the 

earth 

Forever, and to noble deeds give birth, 
Or he must go to dust without his fame, 
And leave a dead unprofitable name, 
Finds comfort in himself and in his cause; 
And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws 
His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause; 
This is the happy Warrior; this is he 
Whom every man in arms should wish to be. 

William Wordsworth. 



HAPPINESS 

I hold that human happiness, 

If built on self, is nothing worth 

That bliss translated means to bless 
Some other denizen of earth. 

The selfish man who lives alone 
For greed of gain for paltry pelf, 

Knows not his heart has turned to stone 
That blindly he defrauds himself. 

He might have won a wealth of love 
By kindly acts and words of cheer 

And joy, all other joys above 
A needy neighbor's grateful tear. 
73 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



For deeds of loving kindness will 

In reflex influence return 
To render kind hearts kinder still, 

To make love's flame still brighter burn. 

Who solely lived to please himself 

E'er aught but disappointment found? 

Pleasure's a sly, deceitful elf, 

Who hides her chains until you're bound. 

Oh, men are dull of heart and cold, 
And find His lesson hard to learn 

Who came the secret to unfold 

How peace is found for which they yearn. 

Love's the fulfilling of the law, 
For love is law, and law is love; 

If our old earth this mandate saw 

Fulfilled, 'twould be like heaven above. 

Then build your hope of happiness 
Upon the rock of His command 

Who gave His all your life to bless, 
Or find you've built upon the sand. 

Nannie H. Woodruff. 



Let me examine honestly my mental proc- 
esses, and I must admit that my attitude to- 
ward others is entirely different from my atti- 
tude toward myself. I must admit that in the 

74 



HAPPINESS 

seclusion of my mind, though I say not a word, 
I am constantly blaming others because I am 
not happy. Whenever I bump up against an 
opposing personality and my smooth progress 
is impeded, I secretly blame the opposer. I 
act as though I had shouted to the world: 
" Clear out of the way, every one, for I am 
coming! " Every one does not clear out of the 
way. I did not really expect every one to clear 
out of the way. But I act within as though I 
had so expected. I blame. Hence kindli- 
ness, hence cheerfulness, is rendered vastly 
more difficult for me. 

What I ought to do is this: I ought to reflect 
again and again, and yet again, that the beings 
among whom I have to steer, the living environ- 
ment out of which I have to manufacture my 
happiness, are just as inevitable in the scheme 
of evolution as I am myself; have just as much 
right to be themselves as I have to be myself; 
are precisely my equals in the face of Nature; 
are capable of being explained as I am capable 
of being explained; are entitled to the same 
latitude as I am entitled to; and are no more 
responsible for their composition and their en- 
vironment than I for mine. I ought to reflect 

75 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

again and again, and yet again that they all 
deserve from me as much sympathy as I give 
to myself. Having thus reflected in a general 
manner, I ought to take one by one the in- 
dividuals with whom I am brought into fre- 
quent contact, and seek, by a deliberate effort 
of the imagination and the reason, to under- 
stand them, to understand why they act thus 
and thus, what their difficulties are, what their 
" explanation " is, and how friction can be 
avoided. Here is a course of discipline. If 
I follow it I shall gradually lose the preposter- 
ous habit of blaming, and I shall have laid the 
foundations of that quiet, unshakable self- 
possession which is the indispensable prelimi- 
nary of conduct according to reason, of 
thorough efficiency in the machine of happi- 
ness. 

Arnold Bennett. 



No one seems to doubt the immense human 
interest attached to joy. It is a sacred flame 
that must be fed, and that throws a splendid 
radiance over life. He who takes pains to 
foster it accomplishes a work as profitable for 

humanity as he who builds bridges, pierces 

76 



HAPPINESS 

tunnels, or cultivates the ground. So to order 
one's life as to keep, amid toils and suffering, 
the faculty of happiness, and be able to propa- 
gate it in a sort of salutary contagion among 
one's fellow-men, is to do a work of fraternity 
in the noblest sense. To give a trifling pleas- 
ure, smooth an anxious brow, bring a little 
light into dark paths what a truly divine 
office in the midst of this poor humanity ! But 
it is only in great simplicity of heart that one 
succeeds in filling it. 

Charles Wagner. 

Let us never forget that an act of kindness 
is of itself an act of happiness. 

' Maurice Maeterlinck. 



To every man there openeth 

A Way, and Ways, and a Way, 

And the High Soul climbs the High way 

And the Low Soul gropes the Low, 

And in between, on the misty flats, 

The rest drift to and fro. 

But to every man there openeth 

A High Way and a Low, 

And every man decideth 

The Way his soul shall go. 

John Oxenham. 
77 



EFFICIENCY 



Those who live on the mountain have a longer day than 
those who live in the valley. Sometimes all we need to 
brighten our day is to climb up a little higher. 

ELLA FLAGG YOUNG. 



EFFICIENCY 



So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 

So near is God to man, 
When duty whispers low, Thou must, 

The youth replies, I can. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not 

breaths ; 

In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
We should count time by heart-throbs. He 

most lives 
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the 

best. 

Philip James Bailey. 



THE UPPER ROAD 

Far lie the mountain crests against the sky; 
How shall I find my way so lone, so high, 

Without a chart, and with a heavy load? 
Pilgrim, one certain Guide is thine at will, 
Where the road forks, winding o'er plain and 

hill, 

Whichever way seems easier, choose thou still 

The upper road. 

81 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



By brier and bramble hedged on either hand 
Often it climbs within a lonely land 

Where 'neath thy stumbling feet sharp stones 

are strowed. 

Yet choose it ever, for beyond it rise 
The steadfast peaks that pierce the eternal skies, 
They are thy goal; here thy beginning lies, 
The upper road. 

Comrades may smile, and beckon thee instead, 
To take the lower path, so smooth to tread, 

Where roses bloom, without a thorn to goad, 
A pleasant choice and yet it leads away 
From the high mountain tops that front the day. 
Turn, pilgrim, turn, and take the wiser way, 
The upper road. 

On these rough upward paths have climbed the 

feet 

Of all earth's heroes, all her saints, to meet 
Reward and joy, at the sure end bestowed. 
Their steps have stumbled, too, their burdens 

weighed 

Heavy as thine; yet forward, undismayed, 
They pressed before thee. Choose, nor be 
afraid, 

The upper road. 

^-Priscilla Leonard. 



EFFICIENCY 

One's ideal is one's vision from the slope of 
the mountain of endeavor: each step of climb- 
ing widens the horizon, not in one only, but in 
all directions; while the wider vision inspires 
renewed effort. Thus it is impossible to 
change either the ideal or the conduct of a man 
or an epoch of men, without changing both 
elements: but it is the ideal which is logically 
the cause, the conduct which is the effect; and 
always the creative element in the dynamic 
progress of the world comes in through the 
elevation of the ideal, that is, through the 
higher vision of the men who are upon the 
advancing margin of life. 

Edward Howard Griggs. 



TO PRIZE LIFE'S HARDNESS 

To prize life's hardness! find delight in ways 

That scale the hill crest and the loftier air; 
To rouse some bird song in the desolate days 

When Winter holds the forest froz'n and bare ; 
To wear the cypress as though laurel-wreathed; 

To lure a smile from brows that darkly frown ; 
To say to traits of evil, age bequeathed, 

" Ye may be blotted out ! " and fight them 
down. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

To take what Heaven or Circumstance has sent 
And bend it to the making of a man ! 

This is the aim whereto my days are blent, 
My fond endeavor, waking vision, plan. 

O life ! O earth ! I prize ye for your smart, 

And for your rudeness I am glad at heart. 

James H. West. 



"THE INEVITABLE" 

I like the man who faces what he must 

With step triumphant and a heart of cheer, 
Who fights the daily battle without fear, 

Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering trust 
That God is God that somehow, true and just, 

His plans work out for mortals; not a tear 
Is shed when fortune, which the world holds 
dear, 

Falls from his grasp ; better with love a crust 
Than living in dishonor; envies not 

Nor loses faith in man, but does his best, 
Nor even murmurs at his humbler lot, 

But, with a smile and words of hope, gives zest 
To every toiler. He alone is great 

Who, by a life heroic, conquers fate. 

Sarah Knowles Bolton. 



84 



EFFICIENCY 



LITTLE THINGS 

Here's to the one who loves to do 

The little things of life, 
Who lets no large ambition woo 

Him into worldly strife; 
A kindly man content to work 

At any useful task, 
Who has no duties he would shirk, 

No favors he would ask. 

Here's to the man, where'er he be! 

And O, Thou gentle One, 
Remember, in Thy ministry, 

The good that he has done, 
The happy words, the helpful deeds, 

So tender and so true ! 
For those who have no selfish needs, 

Alas, are all too few. 

Ah, he who takes a humble part, 

In trade, in church, in state, 
And lets no envy fill his heart 

With hatred for the great, 
Can watch the wheel of fortune roll 

Its luckless favors out, 
Conscious that he has won his soul 

Who conquers care and doubt. 

This health to him! who learns to feel 

That little things in life 
Make up the best of human weal, 

The worst of human strife; 
85 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Who hides his anger in a smile, 

His worry in good cheer, 
And lives without a trace of guile, 

And dies without a fear! 

Charles W. Stevenson. 



SYMPHONY OF LIFE 

To live content with small means; 

To seek elegance rather than luxury, 

Refinement rather than fashion; 

To be worthy, not simply respectable; 

And wealthy, not simply rich ; 

To study hard, think quietly, 

Talk gently, act frankly; 

To listen with open heart to birds and stars, 

To babes and sages; 

To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely; 

Await occasions, never hurry 

In a word, to let the spiritual life 

Grow up through and above the common 

This to be my " symphony of life." 

William Henry Channing. 



A LOWLY LIFE 

So uncomplainingly she bore the moil 
Of housewife care and unremitting toil, 
And, be it said, throughout her length of days 
Her womanly reward was stinted praise. 

86 



EFFICIENCY 



She lived a life as lowly as the loam, 
Yet just her patient smile suggested home 
And mother-love that watched o'er trundle-bed, 
Till, e'en the praiseless husband often said 
She made his home-life happy. 

So, when the friends had crossed upon her breast 
Her tired hands that she might better rest, 
And noted the angelic smile of peace 
She wore at labor's end and toil's surcease, 
An epitaph to mark her grave they framed, 
And, while no deed of martyrdom was named, 
The lines told all of wife and mother strife 
They writ beneath her name : " A Farmer's Wife 
She made his home-life happy." 

Roy. Farrell Green. 



Lord, let me make this rule 
[To think of life as school, 
And try my best 
To stand each test, 
And do my work, 
And nothing shirk. 

Should some one else outshine 
This dullard head of mine, 

Should I be sad? 

I will be glad, 

To do my best 

Is Thy behest. 
87 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Some day the bell will sound, 
Some day my heart will bound, 

As with a shout 

That school is out, 

And lessons done, 

I homeward run. 

Maltbie Davenport Babcock. 



THE DAY AND THE WORK 

There is waiting a work where only his hands 

can avail; 
And so, if he falters, a chord in the music will 

fail. 
He may laugh to the sky, he may lie for an hour 

in the sun; 
But he dare not go hence till the labor appointed 

is done. 

To each man is given a marble to carve for the 

wall: 
A stone that is needed to heighten the beauty 

of all: 
And only his soul has the magic to give it a 

grace : 
And only his hands have the cunning to put it 

in place. 

Edzvin Markham. 



88 



EFFICIENCY 



"AT IT ALL THE TIME " 

There's a prosy kind of motto that you'll find is 

very rife 
With the people you most envy for their rare 

success in life. 
I'll admit it's not romantic, has no touch of the 

sublime, 
But it's just the rule to work by, namely, At it 

all the time. 

You'll observe that men and women who, 'tis 
said, have made their mark 

Do not drop the chalk of effort at the first ap- 
proach of dark; 

And you'll find them at life's blackboard when 
the sun begins to climb, 

For, obedient to their motto, they keep at it 
all the time. 

The thing 1 God sets them doing gets to be their 

chief delight; 
'Tis their first thought in the morning and their 

last concern at night. 
They will turn away from pleasure just as 

promptly as from crime; 
Simple duty is their safeguard, for they're at it 

all the time. 

It's the noblest of all passions, this consuming 

zeal for work, 
This wholesome dread of failure or of being 

called a shirk ; 

89 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



And I'm sure the wisest motto for success, in 

prose or rhyme, 
Is that plain rule of the workers keeping at it 

all the time. 

James Buckham. 



A SONG FOR THOSE WHO SUCCEED 

A song for those who succeed: 
(You there !) 

You whole successful crew, 
Ye men of the strong, heroic stripe, 

Here is a song for you, 
Now who is there here in this whole wide throng 

In whose honest ear I can sing my song 

(Stand up!) 

d 

Ah, here's my millionaire: 

(Come here!) 

Good sir, your wealth is great, 
And well you have scooped your fortune, man, 

From the loosened grasp of fate. 
You have picked up gold as the long years roll. 
But while picking up gold you have dropped 
your soul: 

(Go back!) 

Ah, here's my wide-browed sage: 

(This way !) 

Five thousand years of lore ! 
Faith, man, 'tis a goodly heritage, 
But you need a little more. 
90 



EFFICIENCY 



You have garnered all thoughts from the four 

winds blown, 

But forgotten meantime to think your own : 
(Sit down!) 

Ah, here's my artist friend: 

(Step up!) 

You have given dreams to men, 
Yes, a world of dreams you have bodied forth 

With chisel, brush and pen; 
But you've lost the meat of the tough world's 

strife, 

And missed the juice of the vintage of life ; 
(Step down!) 

Who's that old woman there? 

(Sit down!) 
She has no lore or pelf, 
And has worked so hard for those she loved 

She has never thought of herself. 
Step up, step up in the whole world's view; 
Ah, madam, this song is meant for you : 
(Step up!) 

Sam Walter Foss. 



I desire to radiate health, cheerfulness, sin- 
cerity, calm courage and good-will. I wish to 
live without hate, whim, jealousy, envy or fear. 
I wish to be simple, honest, natural, frank, 
clean in mind and clean in body, unaffected; 

9' 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

ready to say " I do not know " if so it be, to 
meet all men on an absolute equality, to face 
any obstacle and meet any difficulty unafraid 
and unabashed. I wish others to live their 
lives, too, up to their highest, fullest and best. 
To that end I pray that I may never meddle, 
dictate, interfere, give advice that is not 
wanted, nor assist when my services are not 
needed. If I can help people I'll do it by 
giving them a chance to help themselves; and 
if I can uplift or inspire, let it be by example, 
influence and suggestion rather than by in- 
junction and dictation. That is to say, I de- 
sire to be radiant to radiate life. 

Elbert Hubbard. 



HOW DID YOU DIE? 

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way 

With a resolute heart and cheerful? 
Or hide your face from the light of day 

With a craven soul and fearful? 
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, 

Or a trouble is what you make it, 
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, 

But only how did you take it? 
92 



EFFICIENCY 



You are beaten to earth ? Well, well, what's that ? 

Come up with a smiling face. 
It's nothing against you to fall down flat, 

But to lie there that's disgrace. 
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you 
bounce, 

Be proud of your blackened eye! 
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts; 

It's how did you fight and why ? 

And though you be done to the death, what then? 

If you battled the best you could, 
If you played your part in the world of men, 

Why, the Critic will call it good. 
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a 
pounce, 

And whether he's slow or spry, 
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts, 

But only how did you die? 

Edmund Vance Cooke< 



IF 

If you can keep your head when all about you 

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; 
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you 

But make allowance for their doubting too: 
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, 
Or being hated, don't give way to hating, 

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise : 
93 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



If you can dream and not make dreams your 

master; 
If you can think and not make thoughts your 

aim; 
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster 

And treat those two impostors just the same: 
If you can hear the truth you've spoken 

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 
Or watch the things you gave your life to, 

broken, 

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out 
tools ; 

If you can make a heap of all your winnings 

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, 
And lose, and start again at your beginnings 

And never breathe a word of your loss: 
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew 

To serve your turn long after they are gone, 
And so hold on when there is nothing in you 

Except the Will which says to them : " Hold 
on!" 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, 

Or walk with Kings nor lose the common 

touch ; 
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, 

If all men count with you, but none too much: 
If you can fill the unforgiving minute 

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, 
Yours is the earth and everything that's in it ; 

And which is more you'll be a man, my Son. 

Rudyard Kipling. 
94 



EFFICIENCY 

THE FEAR OF BEING GREAT 

Sounds a bit odd, doesn't it? Suggests 
some slip of the typewriter, or a printer's mis- 
take? The fear of being great! " Why bless 
you," you exclaim, " we're not afraid of being 
great. We're afraid we won't be great." 

Nothing of the sort. You're afraid to be 
great. That's what is the matter with you. 
And so long as that fear has right of way in 
the organization of you, you won't be great. 

But I can't be harsh with you. There are 
excuses for this fear of yours. To be great is 
to be greatly a sufferer, greatly misunderstood, 
greatly embattled, greatly aloof and alone. 
To be great is to have one's visage marred 
more than any man, and one's form more than 
the sons of men. I hardly can blame you for 
not wishing to pay the price. 

Washington paid it. And Lincoln. Both 
were greatly great, because greatly beset and 
buffeted. Read the letter of Hamilton en- 
treating Washington to accept the Presidency 
when that Great heart shrank from the task 
with an utter shrinking. The dark days 
of the war defeats, impoverishment, dis- 
loyalties, domestic treason and foreign levy 

95 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

had worn him down; so that now he cried out 
for ease from the burden. Nor were they cries 
without cause. No President than he was 
ever more savagely vilified. 

And Lincoln! man of sorrows, man ac- 
quainted with grief. The show of his counte- 
nance witnesses for him in the matter. Costly 
the price he paid. The deep, sorrowful eyes 
of him, and stricken face, tell the story. It is 
known of all. 

Yes, you're afraid to be great: afraid to 
stand alone. You choose to be like others 
float with the tide; go with the crowd, swal- 
lowed in the gregarious nonentity ! That's the 
herding instinct, which deteriorates men into 
cattle. 

It's the easiest way. And will keep your 
soul scrawny forever. 

t-Bouck White. 



Q 

evjsb 



96 



CIVIC WELFARE 



Let us have faith that right makes might, and in 
that faith let us do our duty as we understand it. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



CIVIC WELFARE 



Be useful where thou livest, that they may 
Both want and wish thy pleasing presence still, 

Find out men's wants and will, 
And meet them there. All worldly joys go less 
To the one joy of doing kindness. 

George Herbert. 



A child's kiss 

Set on thy sighing lips, shall make thee glad ; 
A poor man served by thee, shall make thee rich ; 
A sick man helped by thee, shall make thee 

strong, 

Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense 
Of service which thou renderest. 

Elizabeth B. Browning. 



Is thy cruse of comfort wasting? 

Rise and share it with another, 
And through all the years of famine, 

It shall serve thee and thy brother. 
Is thy burden hard and heavy? 

Do thy steps drag heavily? 
Help to bear thy brother's burden ; 

God will bear both it and thee. 

Elizabeth Charles. 
99 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



I am glad to think 

I am not bound to make the world go right; 
But only to discover and to do, 
With cheerful heart, the work that God appoints. 

I will trust in Him, 

That He can hold His own; and I will take 
His will, above the work He sendeth me, 
To be my chiefest good. 

Jean Ingelow. 



What asks our Father of His children save 
Justice and mercy and humility, 
A reasonable service of good deeds, 
Pure living, tenderness to human needs, 
Reverence, and trust, and prayer for light to 

see 

The Master's footprints in our daily ways? 
No knotted scourge, nor sacrificial knife, 
But the calm beauty of an ordered life 
Whose every breathing is unwonted praise. 

John Greenleaf Whittier. 

Be strong! 

We are not here to play, to dream, to drift. 
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift 
Shun not the struggle ; face it. 'Tis God's gift. 

Be strong! 

Say not the days are evil, who's to blame? 
And fold the hands and acquiesce O shame ! 
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's 
name. 

100 



CIVIC WELFARE 



Be strong! 

It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong, 
How hard the battle goes, the day how long, 
Faint not, fight on! To-morrow comes the 
song. 

Maltbie Davenport Babcock. 






'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know 
That in ourselves our safety must be sought; 
That by our own right hands it must be wrought, 
That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low. 
O Dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer! 
We shall exult, if they who rule the land 
Be men who hold its many blessings dear, 
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile band, 
Who are to judge of danger which they fear, 
And honor which they do not understand. 

William Wordsworth. 



Is true Freedom but to break 
Fetters for our own dear sake, 
And, with leathern hearts, forget 
That we owe mankind a debt? 
No ! true freedom is to share 
All the chains our brothers wear, 
And, with heart and hand, to be 
Earnest to make others free ! 
101 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



They are slaves who fear to speak 
For the fallen and the weak; 
They are slaves who will not choose 
Hatred, scoffing, and abuse, 
Rather than in silence shrink; 
From the truth they needs must think; 
They are slaves who dare not be 
In the right with two or three. 

James Russell Lowell, 



In the long run, success or failure will be 
conditioned upon the way in which the average 
man, the average woman, does his or her duty, 
first in the ordinary, every-day affairs of life, 
and next in those great occasional crises which 
call for the heroic virtues. 

The average citizen must be a good citizen 
if our republics are to succeed. The stream 
will not permanently rise higher than the main 
source; and the main source of national power 
and national greatness is found in the average 
citizenship of the nation. Therefore it be- 
hooves us to do our best to see that the stand- 
ard of the average citizen is kept high ; and the 
average citizen cannot be kept high unless the 
standard of the leaders is very much higher. 
***** 

102 



CIVIC WELFARE 

The man who does nothing cuts the same 
sordid figure in the pages of history, whether 
he be cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is 
little use for the being whose tepid soul knows 
nothing of the great and generous emotion of 
the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty 
enthusiasm of the men who quell the storm and 
ride the thunder. Well for these men, if they 
succeed; well, also, though not so well, if they 
fail, given only that they have nobly ventured, 
and have put forth all their heart and strength. 
It is war-worn Hotspur spent with hard fight- 
ing, he of the many errors and the valiant end, 
over whose memory we love to linger, not over 
the memory of the young lord who " but for 
the vile guns would have been a soldier." 
***** 

In short, the good citizen in a republic must 
realize that he ought to possess two sets of 
qualities, and that neither avails without the 
other. He must have those qualities which 
make for efficiency, and he must also have 
those qualities which direct the efficiency into 
channels for the public good. 

He is useless if he is inefficient. There is 

nothing to be done with the type of citizen of 

103 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

whom all that can be said is that he is harmless. 
Virtue which is dependent upon a sluggish cir- 
culation is not impressive. There is little place 
in active life for the timid good man. The 
man who is saved by weakness from robust 
wickedness is likewise rendered immune from 
robuster virtues. The good citizen in a repub- 
lic must first of all be able to hold his own. He 
is no good citizen unless he has the ability which 
will make him work hard and which at need 
will make him fight hard. The good citizen 
is not a good citizen unless he is an efficient 
citizen. 

Theodore Roosevelt. 



OUR COUNTRY 

" O Beautiful, my country! " 

Be thine a nobler care 
Than all thy wealth of commerce, 

Thy harvests waving fair; 
Be it thy pride to lift up 

The manhood of the poor; 
Be thou to the oppressed 
Fair freedom's open door ! 
104 



CIVIC WELFARE 



For thee our fathers suffered, 

For thee they toiled and prayed; 
Upon thy holy altar 

Their willing lives they laid: 
Thou hast no common birthright, 

Grand memories on thee shine; 
The blood of pilgrim nations 

Commingled flows in thine. 

O Beautiful, our country ! 

Round thee in love we draw; 
Thine is the grace of freedom, 

The majesty of law: 
Be righteousness thy scepter, 

Justice thy diadem; 
And on thy shining forehead 

Be peace the crowning gem ! 

Frederick L. Hostner. 



Therefore, though few may praise, or help, or 

heed us, 

Let us work on with head, or heart, or hand, 
For that we know the future ages need us, 
And we must help our time to take its stand." 



The time is ripe for a new prophet, who 
shall call the world back to the simple realities 
of human life. The awaited teacher should 

105 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

found no order and establish no sect. It is not 
the multiplication of institutions that is needed, 
but the consecration of individuals. He must 
have the reserve of wisdom; he must forego 
authority and disclaim unusual election. He 
must find the ideal by transfiguring the com- 
monplace; he must see and teach the divinity 
of common things. He should live in the 
world, and yet maintain a perfect consecration 
to an ideal of simplicity, spirituality and per- 
sonal helpfulness. He should call men away 
from the senseless rush for luxury, fashion, 
dissipation; and turn them to the things of the 
spirit personal love, thought, beauty, imme- 
diate helpfulness. It is not a new gospel that 
is needed, but the gospel anew. 

Edward Howard Griggs. 



THE RIGHT IS MARCHING ON 

From age to age they gather, all the brave 

of heart and strong, 
In the strife of truth with error, of the right 

against the wrong; 

I can see their gleaming banner, I can hear 
their triumph song. 

The truth is marching on ! 
106 



CIVIC WELFARE 



" In this sign we conquer ; " 'tis the symbol 

of our faith, 
Made holy by the might of love triumphant 

over death ; 

"He finds his life who loseth it," forevermore 
it saith : 

The right is marching on ! 

The earth is circling onward out of shadow 

into light; 

The stars keep watch above our way, how- 
ever dark the night; 

For every martyr's stripe there glows a bar 
of morning bright, 

And love is marching on ! 

Frederick L. Hosmer. 



THE COMING RACE 

These things shall be, a loftier race 
Than e'er the world hath known shall rise 

With flame of freedom in their souls, 
And light of knowledge in their eyes. 

They shall be gentle, brave, and strong 
To spill no drop of blood, but dare 

All that may plant man's lordship firm 

On earth, and fire, and sea, and air. 

107 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Nation with nation, land with land, 
Unarmed shall live as comrades free; 

In every heart and brain shall throb 
The pulse of one fraternity. 

New arts shall bloom of loftier mould, 
And mightier music thrill the skies, 

And every life shall be a song, 
When all the earth is paradise. 

A. Symonds. 



1 08 



THE GOOD CHEER PLEDGE 

To promote Happiness, Efficiency, and Civic Wel- 
fare, I sincerely promise that wherever I am 

I will talk Health instead of sickness. 
I will talk Prosperity instead of failure. 
I will carry Good News instead of bad news. 
I will tell the Cheerful Tale instead of the sad tale. 
I will mention my Blessings instead of my burdens. 
I will speak of the Sunshine of yesterday and to- 
morrow instead of the clouds of to-day. 
I will Encourage instead of criticise. 
I will be a Friend to every one. 

These tonics taken regularly in large, Allopathic 
doses, produce the following results : 

They open the windows of the soul. 

They strengthen the heart-action. 

They purify the mental atmosphere. 

They relax nerve-tension. 

They increase the circulation of the blood. 

They eliminate poison from the system. 

They improve the appetite. 

They aid digestion. 

They tone up the physical vitality. 

The treatment is as free as the Pure Air, the Blue 
Sky, and the Sunshine. 



I WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD 
OF SICKNESS 



"A laugh is worth a hundred groans in any market* 



WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD 
OF SICKNESS 



She always is ailing, ne'er calls herself well, 

And never is happy unless she can tell 

To all whom she meets, how each ailment befell. 

When she lies down at night, she can feel her 

heart beat, 

And at morn she is troubled with very cold feet ; 
And her stomach feels gone if she only could 

eat! 

Her liver is worse than no liver at all; 
And shivers go o'er her ; she feels her flesh crawl ; 
And her head but that came, when a child, 
from a fall. 

Then her nerve* ; here her feelings no words can 

express ! 

Such awful sensations, such fearful distress, 
Half her suffering no one but the nervous could 

guess! 

"3 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Come weal or woe, whatever betide, 

She ne'er is quite free from a pain in her side ; 

And a curve in her spine is her joy and her pride. 

Earth, robed in its beauty, allures her in vain ; 
She feels so to dread a return of her pain ; 
She thinks she will send for the doctor again. 

Above bends the sky, and there rises the hill; 
Beyond is the river, beside it the mill; 
But her only thought is when she takes the next 
pill. 

Bright clouds float in silence and beauty along; 
Sweet birds, glad of heart, fill the air with their 

song; 
But she sees not, she hears not her throat feels 

all wrong. 

You tell her a story, you bring her a book, 
You show her a picture and beg she will look, 
Ah, no ! She must first tell you " how she was 
took." 

Her mind is so bent on " enjoying poor health/' 
And of direful symptoms she has such a wealth, 
That you cannot divert her, not even by stealth. 

But over, and over, and over again, 

With thoughts ever fixed in the same gloomy 

train, 

She talks of her ills, and her pills, and her pain. 

114 



I WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD OF 
SICKNESS 

And 'tis feared when she reaches that beautiful 

shore, 
Where sorrow, and sickness, and pain are no 

more, 

My lady will sigh for " the sweet days of yore." 

Christine Miller. 



Talk health ! The dreary, never changing tale 
Of mortal maladies is worn and stale, 
You cannot charm or interest or please, 
By harping on that minor chord, disease. 
Say you are well, or all is well with you, 
And God will hear your words and make them 
true. 

r-//o Wheeler Wilcox. 



What volumes of potential energy are 
wasted, and far worse, in negative and discord- 
ant mental activities! We are not thinking 
for ourselves, but for the world. With the 
shuttle of thought in the loom of mind, we are 
weaving the multi-colored fabric of conditions, 
and these not merely immaterial, but to be out- 
wardly actualized and manifested. If one in 

"5 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

his own soul strikes the discordant notes of 
anger, envy, avarice, selfishness, or even those 
seemingly more harmless ones of simple fear, 
weakness, grief, pessimism, or depression, he 
is creating and vibrating those conditions far 
and near, thereby stirring the corresponding 
chords in other souls into sympathetic activity. 
The sphere of outward action is limited, while 
that of thought is boundless. Mere doing 
makes ephemeral reputation, while quality of 
thinking determines, or rather is, vital char- 
acter. 

! -Henry Wood. 



When we learn that it is a matter of 
economy never to rehearse the symptoms of 
disease, never to get angry, never to cherish 
ill-will, revengeful or unforgiving thoughts, 
never to make enemies, but always to be char- 
itable and friendly, kind, good-natured, and 
hopeful, we shall not need to be told how we 
caused his own dis-ease; nor shall we need to 
say, " I will not think these wrong thoughts 
any more," for they will die out of themselves. 

Horatio W. Dresser. 
116 



I WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD OF 
SICKNESS 

You are continually building, and so ex- 
ternalizing in your body, conditions most akin 
to the thoughts and emotions you entertain. 
And not only are you building from within, 
but you are also continually drawing from 
without, forces of a kindred nature. Your 
particular kind of thought connects you with a 
similar order of thought from without. If it 
is bright, hopeful, cheerful, you connect your- 
self with a current of thought of this nature. 
If it is sad, fearing, despondent, then this is the 
order of thought you connect yourself with. 

Ralph Waldo Trine. 



Thus the sovereign voluntary path to cheer- 
fulness, if our spontaneous cheerfulness be 
lost, is to sit up cheerfully, to look round cheer- 
fully, and to act and speak as if cheerfulness 
were already there. If such conduct does not 
make you soon feel cheerful, nothing else on 
that occasion can. So to feel brave, act as if 
we were brave, use all our will to that end, and 
a courage-fit will very likely replace the fit of 
fear. ... To wrestle with a bad feeling 

only pins our attention on it, and keeps it 

117 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

still fastened in the mind: whereas, if we act as 
if from some better feeling, the old bad feeling 
soon folds its tent like an Arab, and silently 
steals away. 

William James. 



I think we are too ready with complaint 

In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope 
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope 
Of yon gray blank of sky, we might be faint 
To muse upon eternity's constraint 
Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope 
Must widen early, is it well to droop 
For a few days, consumed in loss and taint? 
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted, 
And like a cheerful traveler, take the road, 
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread 
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod 
To meet the flints? At least it may be said, 
" Because the way is short, I thank thee, God ! " 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



BLUES AND BLUES 

If you must sit high and sigh 

And have the blues, 
Why don't you try to realize 

That there are sighs and sighs, 
And Blues and Blues, 
From which to choose? 
118 



I WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD OF 
SICKNESS 

There are heavenly blues, and blue of 

tranquil seas, 
Both pleasant if you have them, pray 

have these. 

Annie 1+ Scull. 



If the windows of your soul are dirty and 
streaked, covered with matter foreign to them, 
then the world as you look out of them will be 
to you dirty and streaked and out of order. 
Cease your complainings, however; keep your 
pessimism, your " poor unfortunate me " to 
yourself, lest you betray the fact that your 
windows are badly in need of something. But 
know that your friend, who keeps his windows 
clean, that the Eternal Sun may illumine all 
within and make visible all without, know 
that he lives in a different world from yours. 

Then go wash your windows, and instead of 
longing for some other world, you will dis- 
cover the wonderful beauties of this world ; and 
if you don't find transcendent beauties on 
every hand here, the chances are that you will 
never find them anywhere. 

Ralph Waldo Trine. 
"9 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



To keep my health! 

To do my work! 

To live! 

To see to it I grow and gain and give! 

Never to look behind me for an hour ! 

To wait in weakness and to walk in 

power, 
But always fronting forward to the 

light, 
Always, and always facing toward 

the right, 
Robbed, starved, defeated, fallen, 

wide astray 

On, with what strength I have ! 
Back to the way ! 

Charlotte Perkins Oilman. 



The man who realizes that he has become or 
is becoming a victim of worry must be advised 
consciously and resolutely to direct himself to 
the question of his sleep. It is safe to say that 
the worrying man cannot sleep too much, and, 
as a rule, he sleeps too little. If he would be 
cured, then, he must attend to this matter. 
Insomnia may well be the efficient cause of 
worry in his case, and to remove the efficient 
cause is to cure the disease. If the doctor's 
help is necessary it must be obtained. There 

120 



I WILL TALK HEALTH INSTEAD OF 
SICKNESS 

are very few cases of insomnia that cannot be 
relieved. . . . The man who sleeps well 
is, ... a practical optimist, whilst the 
victim of insomnia is, ... a practical 
pessimist a man who worries. 

C. W. Saleeby, M. D. 



Just as Nature tends toward health, Nature 
tends toward rest toward the right kind of 
rest; and if we have lost the true knack of 
resting we can just as surely find it as a sun- 
flower can find the sun. . . . We can do 
it best by keeping our minds concentrated on 
something simple and quiet and wholesome. 
For instance, you feel tired and rushed and 
you have half an hour in which to rest and get 
rid of the rush. Suppose you lie down on the 
bed and imagine yourself a turbulent lake 
after a storm. The storm is dying down, dy- 
ing down, until by and by there is no wind, 
only little dashing waves that the wind has left. 
Then the waves quiet down steadily, more and 
more, until finally they are only ripples on the 
water. Then no ripples, but the water is as 
still as glass. The sun goes down. The sky 

121 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

glows. Twilight comes. One star appears, 
and green banks and trees and sky and stars 
are all reflected in the quiet mirror of the lake, 
and you are the lake, and you are quiet and 
refreshed and rested and ready to get up and 
go on with your work to go on with it, too, 
better and more quietly than when you left it. 

Annie Payson Call. 



The best part of health is fine disposition. 
It is more essential than talent, even in the 
works of talent. Nothing will supply the 
want of sunshine to peaches, and, to make 
knowledge valuable, you must have the cheer- 
fulness of wisdom. Whenever you are sin- 
cerely pleased, you are nourished. The joy of 
the spirit indicates its strength. All healthy 
things are sweet-tempered. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he.' 



122 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY IN- 
STEAD OF FAILURE 



"Anxiety never yet successfully bridged over any chasm.* 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY IN- 
STEAD OF FAILURE 



Yes, if you're a tramp in tatters, 
While the blue sky bends above 

You've got nearly all that matters 
You've got God, and God is love. 

r-Robert W. Strvice. 



Plant flowers in the soul's front yard, 
Set out new shade and blossom trees, 

An' let the soul once froze an' hard, 
Sprout crocuses of new idies. 

Yes, clean yer house, an* clean yer shed, 

An' clean yer barn in ev'ry part; 
But brush the cobwebs from yer head, 
An' sweep the snow banks from yer heart. 

Sam Walter Foss* 
125 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Say! you've struck a heap of trouble 

Bust in business, lost your wife ; 
No one cares a cent about you, 

You don't care a cent for life; 
Hard luck has of hope bereft you, 

Health is failing, wish you'd die 
Why, you've still the sunshine left you 

And the big, blue sky. 

Robert W. Service. 



MATILDA AND NATURE'S SPRING 
CLEANING 

I find the world outside my house is often all 

awry, 
But my household is a model to direct the planet 

by, 

Excepting in spring cleaning time my home is 

then destroyed 
'Tis made a primal chaos then, without a form 

or void. 

'Tis scoured from the rafter to the bottom cellar 

stair; 
And I leave behind all hope whene'er I enter 

there ; 
For the wash-brush, like a whirlwind, devastates 

the peaceful scene, 
For Matilda is the cleanest of the cleanest of the 

clean. 

126 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

But Matilda's just like Nature, for early every 

spring 
Does Nature get her scrub brush out, her duster 

and her wing; 
With her mighty soap and bucket does she travel 

all about, 
And swashes through the universe and cleans 

the old thing out. 

And she puts up new lace curtains in the win- 
dows of the sky, 

Made of white cloud, mixed with sunshine, float- 
ing, filmy tapestry, 

When the gorgeous sun at sunset finds the clouds 
about him curled, 

And he sticks his jewelled hairpin through the 
back-hair of the world. 

And she takes her dull brown carpet and she rips 

it from the hills, 
And she sprays her floors with showers till they 

soak through to the sills ; 
Then her tuliped carpet, with its background of 

bright green 
Spreads she, rich as the floor-mat 'neath the high 

throne of a queen. 

So, Matilda, whisk your wash-rag ; it is music to 

my ears, 
And it beats with perfect rhythm to the music of 

the spheres, 

137 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Reach your long brush for the cobwebs, swing it 

ever high and higher, 
A baton that beats the measure for the mighty 

Cosmic Choir. 



You are cleaning house with Nature; you are 

stepping to the march, 
To which the planet legions trail across the 

starry arch, 
Though the table's on the bureau, and the whisk 

broom does not cease, 
I eat my supper standing, lapped in universal 

peace. 

Sam Walter Fotf. 



Sky so blue it makes you wonder 

If it's heaven shining through; 
Earth so smiling 'way out yonder, 

Sun so bright it dazzles you; 
Birds a-singing, flowers a-flinging 

All their fragrance on the breeze; 
Dancing shadows, green, still meadows 

Don't you mope, you've still got these. 

Robert W. Service. 



128 



TO THE TERRESTRIAL GLOBE 

Roll on, thou ball, roll on! 
Through pathless realms of space 

Roll on! 

What though I'm in a sorry case? 
What though I cannot meet my bills? 
What though I suffer toothache's ills? 
What though I swallow countless pills? 
Never you mind ! 
Roll on! 

Roll on, thou ball, roll on ! 
Through seas of inky air 

Roll on! 

It's true I've got no shirt to wear, 
It's true my butcher's bill is due, 
It's true my prospects all look blue- 
But don't let that unsettle you ! 
Never you mind ! 
Roll on! 
(It rolls on.) 

W. S. Gilbert. 



FAILURE 

What is a failure? It's only a spur 
To a man who receives it right, 

And it makes the spirit within him stir 
To go in once more and fight. 

If you never have failed, it's an even guess 

You never have won a high success. 
129 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



What is a miss? It's a practice shot 
Which we often must make to enter 

The list of those who can hit the spot 
Of the bull's-eye in the centre. 

If you never have sent your bullet wide, 

You never have put a mark inside. 

What is a knock-down? A count of ten 
Which a man may take for a rest. 

It will give him a chance to come up again 
And do his particular best. 

If you've never been bumped in a rattling go, 

You never have come to the scratch, I know ! 

Edmund Vance Cooke. 



IT COULDN'T BE DONE 

Somebody said that it couldn't be done, 

But he with a chuckle, replied 
That maybe it couldn't, but he would be one 

Who wouldn't say so till he tried. 
So he buckled right in, with a trace of a grin 

On his face. If he worried he hid it. 
He started to sing as he tackled the thing 

That couldn't be done, and he did it. 

Somebody scoffed : " Oh, you'll never do that; 

At least no one has ever done it." 
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat, 

And the first thing we knew he'd begun it; 
130 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

With the lift of his chin, and a bit of a grin, 
Without any doubting or quiddit; 

He started to sing as he tackled the thing 
That couldn't be done, and he did it. 

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be 

done, 

There are thousands to prophesy failure, 
There are thousands to point out to you, one 

by one, 

The dangers that wait to assail you ; 
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin, 

Then take off your coat and go to it; 
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing 
That " cannot be done," and you'll do it ! 

Edgar A. Guest. 



THE WAY TO VICTORY 

Say " I will ! " an' then stick to it,- 
Yes, sir, that's the way to do it. 
Nothin's ever won, I guess, 
Worth the wishin' fer, unless 
One is willin' fer to work, 
Hain't no prizes fer a shirk, 
Fer the Lord, er so they say, 
Hates a quitter, anyway. 

S'posin' 'at a settin' hen 

'D set a little while, an' then 

Gallivant erround until 

All her eggs had got a chill; 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



S'pose she'd ever hatch a thing 
Underneath her floppin' wing? 
She won't do that way, and hence, 
Hens, I say, have common sense. 

Ez a boy I had to do 
Lots o' things I hated to; 
Had to work an old concern, 
Namely, the old dasher churn; 
Didn't never dast to pause 
In my path o' duty, cause 
Knowed 'at, if I stopped to dream, 
Butter'd all go back to cream. 

If a ship was 'lowed to go 
Every way the winds 'd blow, 
Wonder if 't would get erround 
To a harbor safe and sound? 
Guess it's best fer ship or man 
To be guided by a plan. 
Choose yer task, an' whisper still, 
Win I must, an' win I will ! 

"L. A. W. Bulletin: 1 



COURAGE 

Because I hold it sinful to despond, 
And will not let the bitterness of life 

Blind me with burning tears, but look beyond 
Its tumult and its strife; 
132 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

Because I lift my head above the mist, 

Where the sun shines and the broad breezes 
blow, 

By every ray and every raindrop kissed 
That God's love doth bestow; 

Think you I find no bitterness at all? 

No burden to be borne, like Christian's pack? 
Think you there are no ready tears to fall 

Because I keep them back? 

Why should I hug life's ills with cold reserve, 
To curse myself and all who love me? Nay! 

A thousand times more good than I deserve 
God gives me every day. 

And each one of these rebellious tears 

Kept bravely back, He makes a rainbow shine; 

Grateful I take His slightest gift, no fears 
Nor doubts are mine. 

Dark skies must clear, and when the clouds are 
past, 

One golden day redeems a weary year; 
Patient I listen, sure that sweet at last 

Will sound His voice of cheer. 

Then vex me not with chiding. Let me be. 

I must be glad and grateful to the end. 
I grudge you not your cold and darkness, me 

The powers of light befriend. 

Celia Thaxttr. 
'33 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



NEVER LET GO 

Oh, do not let go and do not give up 

And do not let down it is wrong! 
There is always a chance of your winning the 
cup, 

There is always the need of a song. 
Never let go, but cling to the end, 

And never let down lift your eyes 
To the hopes that still over us lovingly bend, 

To the light that is filling the skies ! 

What odds that the struggle is bitter and black, 

That the striving has seemed all in vain; 
Never let go and go tumbling back, 

There's a chance for us all once again. 
No matter how weary, how troubled and worn, 

How futile the struggle may seem, 
There is always a bit of good luck in the morn, 

There is always a light in the dream ! 

Oh, do not let go take another firm hold, 

And never go down if you can: 
Life's prizes are sweet, but there's far better gold 

In the spirit of being a man. 
So stick to the struggle, and trust, and dig on; 

There's a chance for you yet, you will see : 
The blackest of nights brings the glow of the 
dawn 

And the luck that may set us all free. 

Bentztown Bard. 

Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 
'34 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

You are a ruined man, or you are stricken by 
a great bereavement, or again, you see the 
fruit of toilsome years perish before your eyes. 
You cannot rebuild your fortune, raise the 
dead, recover your lost toil, and in the face of 
the inevitable, your arms drop. Then you 
neglect to care for your person, to keep your 
house, to guide your children. All this is par- 
donable, and how easy to understand! But 
it is exceedingly dangerous. To fold one's 
hands and let things take their course, is to 
transform one evil into worse. You who think 
that you have nothing left to lose, will by that 
very thought lose what you have. Gather up 
the fragments that remain to you, and keep 
them with scrupulous care. In good time this 
little that is yours will be your consolation. 
The effort made will come to your relief, as the 
effort missed will turn against you. If nothing 
but a branch is left for you to cling to, cling to 
that branch; and if you stand alone in defense 
of a losing cause, do not throw down your 
arms to join the rout. After the deluge a few 
survivors repeopled the earth. The future 
sometimes rests in a single life as truly as life 
sometimes hangs by a thread. 

Charles Wagner. 
'35 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

The Superior people are never BITTER: If 
you feel you are a failure, that the world is 
going to the dogs, that all men are liars, and 
that there are no good women, it is all quite 
human, that is the tendency it is the general 
slump of the cheap and ordinary mind. 

Pessimism is the philosophy of vulgarity. 
It amounts to dressing up in fine phrases the 
cowardice of the spirit. 

Maeterlinck says that to the hero there is 
no tragedy. No matter how the world and 
events conspire against him, he rises above 
them. Friends may betray, and authorities 
may tyrannize, and the wicked may triumph, 
but it all cannot touch him. 

Take, for instance, the death of Socrates. 
As we read the story of how he was poisoned, 
like a rat in a hole, of his conversation with his 
friends as his hour approached, and catch the 
spirit of the old hero, we are surprised to find 
we are not sorry for him ; we envy him ; we are 
sorry for the villains who did him to death. 

So we do not pity Jesus on Calvary. We 
admire and wonder. The more the ferocity 
and ingratitude and injustice of men beat 
upon Him, the higher burns the flame of His 

'3* 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

imperial spirit. We do not look down upon 
Him in compassion, we look up and adore. 

Neither do we pity them at Marathon, nor 
those others at Balaklava, nor the marines in 
the Wood of Belleau. Deep in our hearts we 
wish we had been there, or had been great 
enough to want to be there. 

Do you, in your little trials, despair and 
complain? Do you pity yourself, want to go 
out in the garden and eat worms, and talk 
theatrically of wondering why you were born, 
and wish you were dead? Such sentiments 
are as common as dust in the road, ragweeds 
in the cow pasture, and empty tin cans in the 
alley. Then you are just plain Common. 
And you'd better begin a course of discipline. 

But when all things combine to crush and 
humiliate you, when failure leers at you, and 
betrayal besmirches you, do you smile and say? 

" In the fell clutch of circumstance 

I have not winced nor cried aloud ; 
Beneath the bludgeonings of chance 
My head is bloody but unbowed.'* 

Then cheer up, friend. You belong. 
You're a thoroughbred. You have a seat in 
the real House of Lords of this humanity. 

Dr. Frank Crane. 
137 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

Fortunately, however, the mind takes much 
longer to grow old than the body, and when 
the sports of youth or even of middle age fail, 
a man may turn to one or other of a thousand 
hobbies, and find in them that mental interest 
which will give him every day a holiday or 
period of freedom from worry. Let the man 
beware, then, who too thoughtlessly permits all 
his intellectual interests to atrophy, save those 
which are concerned with his work. Do not 
let, him be caught saying, " I have no time for 
muMc nowadays," or for any of a thousand 
other things. It is an imperative necessity for 
the average modern man, and is of the nature 
of an investment for coming years, that he 
shall persistently cultivate some other mental 
interest than that with which the worry of the 
struggle -for -existence is associated. Such 
a mental interest, though apparently not 
utilitarian, and though not cultivated for any 
utilitarian purpose, will yet prove to be a valu- 
able weapon in the struggle-for-existence it- 
self. 

C. W. Saleeby, M. D. 



138 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

I should like to speak of a class that to-day 
it is thought quite fitting to treat with the ut- 
most one-sidedness. I mean the rich. Some 
people think the last word is said when they 
have stigmatized that infamy, capital. For 
them, all who possess great fortunes are mon- 
sters forged with the blood of the miserable. 
Others, not so declamatory, persist, however, 
in confounding riches with egoism and in- 
sensibility. Justice should be visited on these 
errors, be they involuntary or calculated. No 
doubt there are rich men who concern them- 
selves with nobody else, and others who do 
good only with ostentation; indeed, we know 
it too well. But does their inhumanity or 
hypocrisy take away the value of the good that 
others do, and that they often hide with a mod- 
esty so perfect? 

Charles Wagner. 



It is astonishing how bugbears side-step 
when one looks them in the face. Such looks 
are not denied the blind. We physically 
sightless can outstare a bugbear with the keen- 
est-sighted of you all. When a bugbear faces 
you, whether you are physically blind or 

139 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

physically seeing, glare at him with the eyes 
of a brave soul and make a rush for him. He 
will turn tail and run ! 

Helen Keller. 

Copyrighted by Edward Marshall Syndicate. 
(From an Interview.) 



ONE DAY AT A TIME 

One day at a time! That's all it can be; 

No faster than that is the hardest fate; 
And days have their limits, however we 

Begin them too early and stretch them too 
late. 

One day at a time \ 

It's a wholesome rhyme! 

A good one to live by, 
A day at a time. 

One day at a time ! Every heart that aches, 
Knowing only too well how long they can 
seem; 

But it's never to-day which the spirit breaks 
It's the darkened future without a gleam. 

One day at a time ! When joy is at height 
Such joy as the heart can never forget 

And pulses are throbbing with wild delight, 
How hard to remember that suns must set. 
140 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

One day at a time ! But a single day, 
Whatever its load, whatever its length; 

And that's a bit of precious Scripture to say 
That according to each shall be our strength. 

j 
One day at a time ! 'Tis the whole of life ; 

All sorrow, all joy, are assured therein; 
The bound of our purpose, our noblest strife 

The one only countersign sure to win! 

One day at a time ! 

It's a wholesome rhyme! 

A good one to live by, 
A day at a time. 

Helen Hunt Jackson. 



THE WINNING WAY 

If you put a little lovin' into all the work you do, 
And a little bit of gladness, and a little bit of you, 
And a little bit of sweetness, and a little bit of 

song, 
Not a day will seem too toilsome ; not a day will 

seem too long; 
And your work will be attractive, and the world 

will stop to look, 
And the world will see a sweetness, like the 

tinklin' of a brook, 

141 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



In the finished job ; and then the world will turn 

to look at you 
With a world's appreciation of the thing you've 

found to do. 

Just a little bit of lovin', and a little bit of song, 
And some pride to sort of make it straight and 

true and clean and strong; 
And the work that you're a-doin', pretty near 

before you know, 
Will have set the world a-talkin', and the little 

winds that blow 
Will bring echoes of it to you, and you'll see that 

you have done 
More than you had dreamed or hoped for when 

the task was first begun; 
And you'll find the bit of lovin' you have put into 

the same 
Has come back to you in lovin', and come back 

to you in fame. 

Them that strive for fame shall miss it; and 
that's what they ought to do ; 

But if you put some gladness, and if you put 
some of you 

In the task that is before you, and you put a bit 
of pride 

Into it, and you go at it glad of heart and eager- 
eyed, 

You will find the world is turnin' pretty soon to 
look your way, 

And you'll find that there's a sweetness in the 
tasks of every day; 
142 



I WILL TALK PROSPERITY INSTEAD OF 
FAILURE 

And the world will see your work and pretty 

soon will speak your name; 
And you'll find you have found lovin* and you'll 

find you have found fame. 

Houston Post. 



wa 

Try the rough water as well as the Smooth. 
Rough water can teach lessons worth know- 
ing. 

c-Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



I WILL CARRY GOOD NEWS IN- 
STEAD OF BAD NEWS 



"Do not leave the sky out of your landscape* 



I WILL CARRY GOOD NEWS IN- 
STEAD OF BAD NEWS 



It was only a glad " Good Morning " 
As she passed along the way ; 

But it spread the morning's glory 
Over the livelong day. 

Perry,. 



Touch your lips with gladness and go singing on 

your way, 

Smiles will strangely lighten every duty; 
Just a little word of cheer may span a sky of gray 
With hope's own heaven-tinted bow of beauty. 
Wear a pleasant face wherein shall shine a joyful 

heart, 

As shines the sun, the happy fields adorning; 
To every care-beclouded life some ray of light 

impart 

And touch your lips with gladness every morn- 
ing. 

Nixon Waterman. 

147 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



GLADNESS OF MORNING 

To hear the lark begin his flight, 
And singing, startle the dull Night 
From his watch-tower in the skies, 
Till the dappled Dawn doth rise; 
Then to come in spite of sorrow, 
And at my window bid good-morrow 
Through the sweet brier, or the vine 
Or the twisted Eglantine. 

John Milton. 



And I, too, sing the song of all creation, 
A brave sky and a glad wind blowing by, 
A clear trail and an hour for meditation, 
A long day and the joy to make it fly, 
A hard task and the muscle to achieve it, 
A fierce noon and a well-contented gloam, 
A good strife and no great regret to leave it, 
A still night and the far red lights of home. 

H. H. Bashford. 



148 



I WILL CARRY GOOD NEWS INSTEAD OF 
BAD NEWS 

Live in the sunshine, don't live in the gloom, 
Carry some gladness the world to illume, 
Live in the brightness, and take this to heart ; 
The world will seem gayer if you'll do your 

part, 

Live on the housetop, not down in the cell ; 
Open-air Christians live nobly and well. 
Live where the joys are, and, scorning defeat, 
Have a good-morrow for all whom you meet. 
Live as a victor, and triumphing go 
Through this queer world, beating down every 

foe, 

Live in the sunshine, God meant it for you ! 
Live as the robins, and sing the day through. 

Margaret Songster. 



THY MISSION 

" There's never a rose in all the world 

But makes some green spray sweeter; 
There's never a wind in all the sky 
But makes some bird wing fleeter; 

" There's never a star but brings to heaven 

Some silver radiance tender, 
And never a rosy cloud but helps 
To crown the sunset splendor; 

" No robin but may thrill some heart, 

His dawnlight gladness voicing; 
God gives us all some small sweet way 
To set the world rejoicing." 
149 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



JUST WHERE THOU ART 

Just where thou art lift up thy voice, 

And sing the song that stirs thy heart; 
Reach forth thy strong and eager hand 

To lift, to save, just where thou art. 
Just where thou standest light thy lamp, 

'Tis dark to others as to thee; 
Their ways are hedged by unseen thorns, 

Their burdens fret as thine fret thee. 

Out yonder, in the broad, full glare 

Of many lamps thine own might pale; 
And thy sweet song amid the roar 

Of many voices slowly fail; 
While these thy kindred wandered on, 

Uncheered, unlighted, to the end. 
Near to thy hand thy mission lies, 

Wherever sad hearts need a friend." 



CHRISTMAS BELLS 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day 
Their old, familiar carols play, 

And wild and sweet 

The words repeat 
Of " Peace on earth, good will to men." 

And thought how as the day had come, 
The belfries of all Christendom 

Now roll along 

The unbroken song 

Of " Peace on earth, good will to men." 
150 



I WILL CARRY GOOD NEWS INSTEAD OF 
BAD NEWS 

Till ringing, singing on its way, 

The world revolved from night to day, 

A voice, a chime, 

A chant sublime, 
Of " Peace on earth, good will to men." 

But in despair I bowed my head 
" There is no peace on earth," I said: 
For hate is strong 
And mocks the song 
Of " Peace on earth, good will to men." 

Then pealed the bells, more loud and deep, 
" God is not dead; nor doth He sleep ! 
The wrong shall fail; 
The right prevail, 
With peace on earth, good will to men." 

Henry, W. Longfellow. 



Ring out the old, ring in the new, 
Ring, happy bells, across the snow: 
The year is going, let him go; 

Ring out the false, ring in the true. 

Ring out the grief that saps the mind, 
For those that here we see no more; 
Ring out the feud of rich and poor, 

Ring in redress to all mankind. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Ring out old shapes of foul disease; 

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; 

Ring out the thousand wars of old, 
Ring in the thousand years of peace. 

Ring in the valiant man and free, 
The larger heart, the kindlier hand; 
Ring out the darkness of the land, 

Ring in the Christ that is to be. 

Alfred Tennyson* 



15* 




"If you have but a word of cheer 
Speak it while I am alive to hear* 



I WILL TELL THE CHEERFUL 

TALE INSTEAD OF THE 

SAD TALE 



It is easier to knock a man out with a joke 
than with a fist-blow, especially if you haven't 
much height and weight behind your fist. It 
is the better way, too, for the joke doesn't hurt. 
Instead of the other man's going in search of 
an arnica bottle or a pistol or a policeman, he 
generally hangs about with the hope of getting 
another blow of the same sort. One needn't 
be little to try it. Abraham Lincoln had a 
fist almost as big as the hand of Providence, 
and as long a reach as John L. Sullivan, but 
he always used a joke instead, so men who 
came to growl remained to laugh. 

Marshall P. Wilder. 



'55 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

Strange as it may seem, it was an old Scotch 
elder who said, " The want of a sense of humor 
is the unpardonable sin." It is true that its 
absence is almost a sin; for a man's attitude to- 
wards life is not wholesome if he be without it. 
And the humorless state is so hopeless as to be 
almost unpardonable, the proverbial surgical 
operation for the purpose of introducing a 
joke into a hard head not yet having been in- 
vented. It is an unpardonable sin; for life in 
some of its aspects is a jest, and the only 
righteous and rational attitude of human 
beings towards life in many of its manifesta- 
tions is deep, hearty laughter. The sense of 
humor at its best is one of the deepest things 
in life. It is a spiritual perception of the 
vast, incongruous discrepancy which exists be- 
tween things as they seem and things as they 
really are. It is not, then, as is so generally 
supposed, one of the superficial elements of 
life. It is part of all that is healthiest and 
noblest in humanity. 

'John Edgar Park. 



I WILL TELL THE CHEERFUL TALE 
INSTEAD OF THE SAD TALE 

Talk happiness ! The world is sad enough 
Without your woes. No path is wholly rough ; 
Look for the places that are smooth and clear 
And speak of those who rest the weary ear 
Of earth, so hurt by one continuous strain 
Of human discontent and grief and pain. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



AT TABLE 

You may breathe a pious blessing, 

Over viands rich and good, 
But a blessing with long faces 

Won't assimilate your food; 
While a meal of bread and herring, 

With a glass of water clear, 
Is a feast if it's accomp'nied, 

With the blessing of good cheer. 

Knowing something funny, tell it; 

Something sad, forget to knell it; 

Something hateful, quick dispel it; 
At the table. 

Elizabeth H. Francis. 



Smile upon the troubled pilgrims 

Whom you pass and meet; 
Frowns are thorns, and smiles are 

blossoms, 
Oft to weary feet. 
'57 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Do not make the way seem harder 

By a sullen face; 
Smile a little, smile a little, 

Brighten up the place. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



" How dismal you look ! " said a bucket to 
his companion, as they were going to the well. 

"Ah! " replied the other, " I was reflecting 
on the uselessness of our being filled ; for let us 
go away ever so full, we always come back 
empty." 

" Dear me, how strange to look at it in this 
way! Now I enjoy the thought that however 
empty we come, we always go away full." 



The world doesn't want to know your strife, 

The world doesn't want to hear your tale 

Of loss and worry there's a life 

Of sunshine in the dewy vale, 

Of use and joy and love and cheer, 

Of beauty and it wants to know 

Not of the things that make you drear 

But of the things that make you glow, 

The hope, the trust, the cheerfulness 

That comfort you and bless. 

Bentztown Bard. 
Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 



I WILL TELL THE CHEERFUL TALE 
INSTEAD OF THE SAD TALE 

TALK OF HAPPINESS 

Grumble? No; what's the good? 
If it availed, I would; 
But it doesn't, not a bit, 
Not it. 

Laugh? Yes; why not? 
'Tis better than crying, a lot; 
We were made to be glad, 
Not sad. 

Sing? Why, yes, to be sure; 
We shall better endure 
If the heart is full of song 
All day long. 

Joan Somerset. 



SOME OTHER DAY 

Some other day take time to fret; 

To-day much work is waiting, 
And it will tax your wits to get 

It done ; so cease berating 
The evil chance that makes you strive, 

With never cause for crowing, 
Or else your worry will deprive 

Your toil of any showing. 

Some other day take time to grieve, 
For joy is waiting near you ; 

But if you moan 'twill surely leave, 
And harpies come to jeer you. 



Put off the tears on with the smiles! 

Give mirth its jolly inning, 
And trust that in life's rich defiles, 

You'll somewhere make a winning. 

Some other day, if not to-day, 

The cares that vex us sadly 
Will in the distance fade away, 

And peace dwell with us gladly; 
So lift those drooping lips and eyes, 

Good comrade, make profession 
Of healthy faith be wise, be wise I 

Keep up with the procession 1 " 



"Are you worsted in the fight? 

Laugh it off. 
Are you cheated of your right? 

Laugh it off. 

Don't make tragedy of trifles, 
Don't shoot butterflies with rifles- 
Laugh it off. 

" Does your work get into kinks? 

Laugh it off. 
Are you near all sorts of brinks? 

Laugh it off. 

If enjoyment you are after, 
There's no receipt like laughter 
Laugh it off." 
1 60 



I WILL TELL THE CHEERFUL TALE 
INSTEAD OF THE SAD TALE 

" It's curious whut a sight o' good a little 

thing will do; 
How ye kin stop the fiercest storm when it 

begins to brew, 
An' take the sting from whut commenced 

ter rankle when 'twas spoke 
By keepin' still and treatin' it ez if it wuz a 

joke ; 
Ye'll find that ye kin fill a place with smiles 

instead o' tears, 
An' keep the sunshine gleamin' through the 

shadows of the years 

By jes' laughin'. 

" Folks sometimes fails ter note the possibili- 
ties that lie 

In the way yer mouth is curvin' and the 
twinkle in yer eye; 

It ain't so much whut's said that hurts ez 
whut ye thinks lies hid. 

It ain't so much the doin' ez the way a thing 
is did; 

An' many a home's kep* happy an' contented 
day by day, 

An' like ez not a kingdom hez been rescued 
from decay 

By jes' laughin'." 



161 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE SUNNY SIDE 

If you've sowed a pansy seed 
That sprang up a thorn, 

And that made your finger bleed 
Where the flesh was torn, 

Drop no tears nor wailing sound, 

Bind a bandage round the wound. 



If you've said a kindly word, 

Or one meant for such, 
That when twisted seemed absurd, 

Foolish overmuch, 
Do not worry, make a rhyme, 
Or keep silent, for a time. 



If you've sung a little song 
That you thought was sweet, 

But have found that it was wrong, 
Or in sense or feet, 

Do not weep at what you've done, 

Smile and sing a better one. 



If you've had a happy thought, 

Beautiful and good, 
That, exprest, was good for naught, 

Or misunderstood, 
Do not fret yourself in vain, 
Think your happy thought again. 
162 



I WILL TELL THE CHEERFUL TALE 
INSTEAD OF THE SAD TALE 



Look upon the sunny side 

Of each word and thought, 
And you shall be satisfied, 

You shall lack for naught. 
Try to pick till life is done 
Fruit that ripens in the sun. 

Julia Harris May. 



Let us sometimes live be it only for an 
hour, and though we must lay all else aside to 
make others smile. The sacrifice is only in 
appearance; no one finds more pleasure for 
himself than he who knows how, without osten- 
tation, to give himself that he may procure for 
those around him a moment of forgetfulness 
and happiness. 

When shall we be so simply and truly men 
as not to obtrude our personal business and 
distresses upon the people we meet socially? 
May we not forget for an hour our preten- 
sions, our strife, our distributions into sets and 
cliques in short, our " parts," and become 
as children once more, to laugh again, that 
good laugh which does so much to make the 
world better? 

Charles Wagner. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



We're weary a-walking the highway of life; 

We're fretted and fluttered with worry and strife. 

Let us drop by the wayside the heavy old load, 

And rest at the inn at the turn of the road 
Let us tarry awhile 
At " The Sign of the Smile." 

Let us tarry awhile at " The Sign of the Smile," 
Forget all our griefs in the joys that beguile; 
Let us pleasure the noon till it changes to night, 
Then up with our loads and we'll find they are 
light- 
Let us tarry awhile 
At " The Sign of the Smile." 



164 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS 
INSTEAD OF MY BURDENS 



"Lest we forget* 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS 
INSTEAD OF MY BURDENS 



" When thou hast thanked thy God 

For every blessing sent, 
What time will then remain 
For murmurs or lament? " 



" For what you find in these sweet days 
Depends on how you go about it; 
A glad heart helps poor eyes to see 
What brightest eyes can't see without it 

" One child sees sunlit air and sky, 
And bursting leaf buds round and ruddy; 
Another looks at his own feet 
And only sees that it is muddy." 



A HOUSEKEEPER'S TRAGEDY 

One day as I wandered, I heard a complain- 
ing 
And saw a poor woman, the picture of 

gloom ; 
She glanced at the mud on her doorsteps 

('twas raining), 

And this was her wail as she wielded the 
broom : 

167 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



' Oh, life is a toil, and love is a trouble, 

And beauty will fade and riches will flee; 

And pleasures they dwindle, and prices they 

double 
And nothing is what I could wish it to be. 

' There's too much of worriment goes to a 

bonnet; 
There's too much of ironing goes to a 

shirt; 
There's nothing that pays for the time you 

waste on it; 

There's nothing that lasts but trouble and 
dirt. 

' In March it is mud; it's slush in December; 
The mid-summer breezes are loaded with 

dust; 

In Fall, the leaves litter; in muggy Septem- 
ber 

The wall paper rots, and the candlesticks 
rust. 

' There are worms in the cherries and slugs 

in the roses, 
And ants in the sugar, and mice in the 

pies. 

The rubbish of spiders no mortal supposes, 
And ravaging roaches and damaging flies. 

' It's sweeping at six, and dusting at seven; 
It's victuals at eight, and dishes at nine; 
It's potting and panning from ten to eleven; 
We scarce break our fast ere we plan how 
to dine. 

1 68 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

" ' With grease and with grime from corner to 

center, 

Forever at war and forever alert, 
No rest for a day, lest the evening enter, 
I spend my whole life in a struggle with 
dirt. 

" * Last night in my dreams, I was stationed 

forever 
On a bare little isle in the midst of the 

sea; 

My one chance of life was a ceaseless en- 
deavor 

To sweep off the waves ere they swept 
over me. 

" ' Alas, 'twas no dream ! Again I behold it ! 

I yield; I am helpless my fate to avert! ' 
She rolled down her sleeves, her apron she 

folded, 

Then lay down and died, and was buried 
in dirt" 



EXTRACT FROM CAPTAIN STORM- 
FIELD'S VISIT TO HEAVEN 

We begun to meet swarms of folks who 
were coming back. Some had harps and noth- 
ing else; some had hymn-books and nothing 

else; some had nothing at all; all of them 

169 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



looked meek and uncomfortable; one young 
fellow hadn't anything left but his halo, and 
he was carrying that in his hand; all of a sud- 
den he offered it to me and says: 

" Will you hold it for me a minute? " 

Then he disappeared in the crowd. I went 
on. A woman asked me to hold her palm 
branch, and then she disappeared. A girl got 
me to hold her harp for her, and by George, 
she disappeared; and so on and so on, till I 
was about loaded down to the guards. Then 
comes a smiling old gentleman and asked me 
to hold his things. I swabbed off the perspira- 
tion and says, pretty tart: 

" I'll have to get you to excuse me, my 
friend, I ain't no hat-rack." 

About this time I begun to run across piles 
of those traps, lying in the road. I just 
quietly dumped my extra cargo along with 
them. I looked around, and, Peters, that 
whole nation that was following me were 
loaded down the same as I'd been. The return 
crowd had got them to hold their things a 
minute, you see. They all dumped their 
loads, too, and we went on. 

When I found myself perched on a cloud, 
170 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

with a million other people, I never felt so 
good in my life. Says I, " Now this is ac- 
cording to the promises; I've been having my 
doubts, but now I am in heaven, sure enough." 
I gave my palm branch a wave or two, for luck, 
and then I tautened uo my harp-strings and 
struck in. Well, Pet or;, you can't imagine 
anything like the row we made. It was grand 
to listen to, and made a body thrill all over, 
but there was considerable many tunes going 
on at once, and that was a drawback to the 
harmony, you understand; and then there was 
a lot of Injun tribes, and they kept up such 
another war-whooping that they kind of took 
the tuck out of the music. By and by I quit 
performing, and judged I'd take a rest. There 
was quite a nice mild old gentleman sitting 
next me, and I noticed he didn't take a hand ; 
I encouraged him, but he said he was naturally 
bashful, and was afraid to try before so many 
people. By and by the old gentleman said 
he never could seem to enjoy music somehow. 
The fact was, I was beginning to feel the same 
way; but I didn't say anything. Him and I 
had a considerable long silence then, but of 

course it warn't noticeable in that place. After 

171 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



about sixteen or seventeen hours, during which 
I played and sung a little, now and then 
always the same tune, because I didn't know 
any other I laid down my harp and begun 
to fan myself with my palm branch. Then 
we both got to sighing pretty regular. Fi- 
nally, says he: 

" Don't you know any tune but the one 
you've been pegging at all day? " 

" Not another blessed one," says I. 

" Don't you reckon you could learn another 
one? " says he. 

"Never," says I; "I've tried to, but I 
couldn't manage it." 

" It's a long time to hang to the one 
eternity, you know." 

" Don't break my heart," says I; " I'm get- 
ting low-spirited enough already." 

After another long silence, says he: 

"Are you glad to be here? " 

Says I, " Old man, I'll be frank with you. 
This ain't just as near my idea of bliss as I 
thought it was going to be, when I used to go 
to church." 

Says he, " What do you say to knocking off 
and calling it half a day? " 

172 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

" That's me," says I. " I never wanted to 
get off watch so bad in my life." 

So we started. Millions were coming to 
the cloud-bank all the time, happy and hosan- 
nahing; millions were leaving it all the time, 
looking mighty quiet, I tell you. We laid 
for the new-comers, and pretty soon I'd got 
them to hold all my things a minute, and then 
I was a free man again and most outrageously 
happy. Just then I ran across old Sam Bart- 
lett, who had been dead a long time, and 
stopped to have a talk with him. Says I : 

" Now tell me is this to go on forever? 
Ain't there anything else for a change? " 

Says he: 

" I'll set you right on that point very quick. 
People take the figurative language of the 
Bible and the allegories for literal, and the 
first thing they ask for when they get here is a 
halo and a harp, and so on. Nothing that's 
harmless and reasonable is refused a body here, 
if he asks it in the right spirit. So they are 
outfitted with these things without a word. 
They go and sing and play just about one day, 
and that's the last you'll ever see them in the 
choir. They don't need anybody to tell them 

173 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



that that sort of thing wouldn't make a 
heaven at least not a heaven that a sane man 
could stand a week and remain sane. That 
cloud-bank is placed where the noise can't dis- 
turb the old inhabitants, and so there ain't any 
harm in letting everybody get up there and 
cure himself as soon as he comes. 

" Now you just remember this heaven is as 
blissful and lovely as it can be; but it's just 
the busiest place you ever heard of. There 
ain't any idle people here after the first day. 
Singing hymns and waving palm branches 
through all eternity is pretty when you hear 
about it in the pulpit, but it's as poor a way 
to put in valuable time as a body could con- 
trive. It would just make a heaven of war- 
bling ignoramuses, don't you see? Eternal 
Rest sounds comforting in the pulpit, too. 
Well, you try it once, and see how heavy time 
will hang on your hands. Why, Stormfield, a 
man like you, that had been active and stirring 
all his life, would go mad in six months in a 
heaven where he hadn't anything to do. 
Heaven is the very last place to come to rest 
in, and don't you be afraid to bet on that! " 

Says I: 

'74 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

" Sam, I'm as glad to hear it as I thought 
I'd be sorry. I'm glad I come now." 

Says he: 

" Cap'n, ain't you pretty physically tired? " 

Says I: 

" Sam, it ain't any name for it! I'm dog- 
tired." 

"Just so just so. You've earned a good 
sleep, and you'll get it. You've earned a good 
appetite, and you'll enjoy your dinner. It's 
the same here as it is on earth you've got to 
earn a thing, square and honest, before you 
enjoy it. You can't enjoy first and earn 
afterwards." 

Mark Twain. 



WORK 

Down and up, and up and down, 

Over and over and over; 
Turn in the little seed, dry and brown; 

Turn out the bright red clover. 
Work, and the sun your work will share, 

And the rain in its time will fall; 
For Nature, she worketh everywhere, 

And the grace of God through all. 
'75 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



With hand on the spade, and heart in the sky, 

Dress the ground and till it; 
Turn in the little seed, brown and dry; 

Turn out the golden millet. 
Work, and your house shall be duly fed; 

Work, and the rest shall be won; 
I hold that a man had better be dead 

Than alive when his work is done! 

Down and up, and up and down, 

High on the hilltop, low in the valley; 
^Turn in the little seed, dry and brown; 

Turn out the rose and lily. 
Work with a plan, a well-laid plan, 

And the end always keep in view; 
Work, and learn at first hand, like a man; 

The best way to know is to do ! 

Down and up, till life shall close, 

Ceasing not your praises; 
Turn in the wild white winter snows, 

Turn out the sweet, wild daisies. 
Work, and the sun your work will share, 

And the rain in its time will fall; 
For Nature, she worketh everywhere, 

And the grace of God through all. 

Alice Cory. 

DA COLDA FEET 

" Da beggarman across da way 

Ees happy as can be; 
He laugh an' weenk baycause he theenk 
He gotta joke on me. 
176 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

" O my, O my, how cold eet ees 

For stan' on deesa street, 
Da weends blow like dey gona freeze 

Da shoes upon your feet. 
I nevva see een deesa town 

So fierce da weentra storm; 
I keepa hoppin' up an* down 

For mak' my feeta warm. 
But beggarman across da way 

He stan' against da wall, 
So like eet was a summer day; 

He ees no cold at all. 
Ees justa box een fronta heem 

For hold hees teenna cup, 
But he bayhava so eet seem 

A stove for warm heem up. 
An' evra time he look an' see 

How colda man am I, 
He justa weenk an' laugh at me 

So like he gona die. 
An' so I leave dees fruita stan' 

An' walka 'cross da street 
For see how ees dees beggarman 

Can keep so warma feet. 
I look an' dere I see da legs 

Dat prop heem by da wall 
Ees notheeng more dan wooden pegs 

He got no feet at all. 

" Eef colda feet should mak' you swear 

An' growl so bad as me, 
I bat your life you would no care 
So mooch eef you could see 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Da beggarman across da way, 

So happy as can be, 
Dat laugh an' weenk baycause he theenk 

He gotta joke on me." 

T. A. Daly. 



But in the course of time a town-pump was 
sunk into the source of the ancient spring; and 
when the first decayed, another took its place, 
and then another and still another, till here 
stand I, gentlemen and ladies, to serve you 
with my iron goblet. Drink and be refreshed. 
The water is as pure and cold as that which 
slaked the thirst of the red sagamore beneath 
the aged boughs. . . . Let us take a 
broader view of my beneficial influence on 
mankind. . . . From my spout and such 
spouts as mine, must flow the stream that shall 
cleanse our earth of the vast portion of its 
crime and anguish which has gushed from the 
fiery fountains of the still. In this mighty 
enterprise the cow shall be my great confed- 
erate. Milk and water the Town-Pump 
and the Cow. Such is the glorious copartner- 
ship that shall tear down the distilleries and 
brewhouses, uproot the vineyards, shatter the 

cider-presses, ruin the tea and coffee trade, and 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

finally monopolize the whole business of 
quenching thirst. Blessed consummation! 
Then poverty shall pass away from the land, 
finding no hovel so wretched where her squalid 
form may shelter herself. Then disease, for 
lack of other victims, shall gnaw its own heart 
and die. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne. 



Blindness? I am what the world calls blind 
but I deny that I am blind and I declare that 
there need be no such thing as blindness. 

The most brilliant vision is the vision of the 
spirit and no mishap of war or peace can take 
that from us if we, ourselves, refuse to let it go. 

The only actual darkness, and I say this 
very solemnly, is that of ignorance and insin- 
cerity. The aviator takes a bird's eye view of 
the world he flies above, and is glad he feels 
free, exalted; the blinded can do more than 
that they can take a soul's eye view of life 
itself and gain a freedom even greater, an 
exaltation even more soul-stirring than the 
most daring aviator. 

Helen Keller. 

Copyrighted by Edward Marshall Syndicate. 
(From an Interview.) 

179 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

Never despair in the fairy-story of your life ; 
anything may happen. In the end the best is 
truest. This is the good news of religion. It 
is a message of hope. Do not despair over the 
dark experience which has come into your life. 
Suddenly, after years, the terrible dragon 
which has kept you in fearful bondage and 
trembling so long is touched by the wand of 
time, of forgiveness, of new insight, and it be- 
comes a fairy-prince golden and glorious, 
ready to conduct you into a new world. 

Your kitchen and your pumpkin? Who 
knows what they may become if only touched 
by religion's magic wand? Your narrow home 
may become a Bethel, the very house of God, 
the very gate of heaven. 

John Edgar Park. 



We live in the sublime. Where else can we 
live? That is the only place of life. And if 
aught be lacking, it is not the chance of living 
in heaven, rather is it watchfulness and medita- 
tion, also perhaps a little ecstasy of soul. 
Though you have but a little room, do you 
fancy that God is not there, too, and that it is 
impossible to live therein a life that shall be 
somewhat lofty? If you complain of being 

1 80 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

alone, of the absence of events, of loving no 
one and being unloved, do you think that the 
words are true? Do you imagine that one can 
possibly be alone? . . . Cannot a living 
thought proud or humble, it matters not; so 
it come from your soul, it is great for you 
cannot a lofty desire, or simply a moment of 
solemn watchfulness to life, enter a little room? 
And if you love not, or are unloved, and can 
yet see with some depth of insight that thou- 
sands of things are beautiful, that the soul is 
great and life almost unspeakably earnest, is 
that not as beautiful as though you loved or 
were loved? . . . All that happens to us 
is divinely great, and we are always in the cen- 
tre of a great world. But we must accustom 
ourselves to live like an angel who has just 
sprung to life. 

Maurice Maeterlinck. 
From " The Treasure of the Humble" 



EVERY-DAY THANKS 

Haste not, dear heart, too fast and far 

To reaping days, 
To find what gifts and treasures are 

Meet for thy praise, 
Nor wait, as thou hast done, to sing 
Thy sweetest thanks at harvesting. 
181 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Just at thy gate a garden blooms 

With life and song, 
And in the fields a thousand looms 

Hum all day long. 
Lo! all these golden summer days 
No toiling vale its thanks delays. 

Be glad to-day, dear heart, for all 

Each season gives. 
Let come what may to speed the fall, 

The present lives. 
No creature hath one reason why 
A thankless day should hurry by. 

Frank Walcott Hutt. 



There was a man who smiled 
Because the day was bright; 
Because he slept at night; 
Because God gave him sight 
To gaze upon his child! 
Because his little one 
Could leap and laugh and run; 
Because the distant sun 
Smiled on the earth, he smiled. 

He toiled and still was glad 
Because the air was free; 
Because he loved, and she 
That claimed his love and he 
Shared all the joys they had ! 
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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Because the grasses grew; 
Because the sweet wind blew; 
Because that he could hew 
And hammer, he was glad. 

B. S. Kiser. 



LIVING 

" How to make lives worth living? " 
The question haunts us every day; 
It colors the first blush of sunrise, 
It deepens the twilight's last ray. 
There is nothing that brings us drearier pain 
Than the thought " We have lived, we are living, 
in vain." 

We need each and all to be needed, 
To feel we have something to give 
Towards soothing the moan of earth's hun- 
ger; 

And we know that then only we live 
When we feed one another as we have been fed 
From the hand that gives body and spirit their 
bread. 

Our lives, they are well worth the living 
When we lose our small selves on the whole, 
And feel the strong surges of being 
Throb through us, one heart and one soul. 

Eternity bears up each honest endeavor; 

The life lost for love is life saved forever. 

Lucy Larcom. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE EARTH AND MAN 

A little sun, a little rain, 

A soft wind blowing from the west 
And woods and fields are sweet again, 

And warmth within the mountain's breast. 

So simple is the earth we tread, 

So quick with love and life her frame; 

Ten thousand years have dawned and fled, 
And still her magic is the same. 

A little love, a little trust, 

A soft impulse, a sudden dream 

And life as dry as desert dust 

Is fresher than a mountain stream. 

So simple is the heart of man, 
So ready for new hope and joy ! 

Ten thousand years since it began 
Have left it younger than a boy. 

Stopford A. Brooke. 



THREE OLD SAWS 

If the world seems cold to you 

Kindle fires to warm it; 
Let their comfort hide from view 

Winters that deform it. 
Hearts as frozen as your own 

To that radiance gather: 
You will soon forget to moan 

"Ah, the cheerless weather!" 
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MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

If the world's a wilderness, 

Go, build houses in it. 
Will it help your loneliness 

On the winds to din it? 
Raise a hut, however slight; 

Weeds and brambles smother; 
And to roof and meal invite 

Some forlorner brother. 

If the world's a vale of tears, 

Smile, till rainbows span it. 
Breathe the love that life endears, 

Clear of clouds to fan it. 
Of your gladness lend a gleam 

Unto souls that shiver; 
Show them how dark Sorrow's stream 

Blends with Hope's bright river. 

Lucy Larcom. 



BEAUTY 

There are times in our lives when we seem to 
go singing on aur way, and when the beauty 
of the world sets itself like a quiet harmony to 
the song we uplift. ... I would have all 
busy people make times in their lives when 
they should try to be alone with nature and 
their own hearts. They should try to realize 
the quiet unwearying life that manifests itself 
in field and wood. They should wander alone 

185 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

in solitary places, where the hazel-hidden 
stream makes music, and the bird sings out of 
the heart of the forest; in the meadows where 
the flowers grow brightly, or through the 
copse, purple with bluebells or starred with 
anemones ; or they may climb the crisp turf of 
the down, and see the wonderful world spread 
out beneath their feet, with some clustering 
town " smouldering and glittering " in the dis- 
tance; or lie upon the cliff- top, with the fields 
of waving wheat behind, and the sea spread 
out like a wrinkled marble floor in front; or 
walk on the sand beside the falling waves. 
. . . A man who does not wish to do these 
things is shutting one of the doors of his spirit, 
a door through which many sweet and true 
things come in. 

Arthur C. Benson. 
From "From A College Window." 



ART 

A thought, a scene of beauty comes home 
with an irresistible sense of power and meaning 
to the mind or eye. For God to have devised 
the pale liquid green of the enamelled evening 

sky, to have set the dark forms of trees against 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

it, and to have hung a star in the thickening 
gloom to have done this, and to see that it is 
good, seems in certain moods, to be the dearest 
work of the Divine mind; and the desire to 
express it, to speak simply of the sight, and 
of the joy that it arouses, comes upon the mind 
with a sweet agony, an irresistible spell; life 
would seem to have been well spent if one had 
only caught a few such imperishable ecstasies, 
and written them down in a record that might 
convey the same joy to others. . . . Life 
can be made, with little effort, into a beautiful 
thing; the real ugliness . . . consists not 
in its conditions, not in good or bad fortune, 
not in joy or sorrow, not in health or illness, 
but upon the perceptive attitude of mind which 
we can apply to all experiences. 

Arthur C. Benson. 
From "From A College Window." 



MUSIC 

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; 
And as the mind is pitched, the ear is pleased 
With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave; 
Some chord in unison with what we hear 
Is touched within us, and the heart replies. 

Cowper. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

MUSIC 

In the physical man, music will relieve pains, 
improve the digestive functions, stimulate the 
organs, strengthen the lungs, give grace to the 
movements, relieve laziness, youthify the old, 
overcome insomnia. In the mental man, 
music will soothe the insane, calm the violent, 
rouse the melancholy, act as a prod to the slow- 
minded, stir the imagination (especially in 
children) , unearth the poet, musician, sculptor, 
writer. 

In the spiritual man, music will change 
morals, strengthen patriotism, loyalty, family 
love, business sincerity. . . . Your body 
is nothing but a great big storage battery which 
either is stored with energy or is as a dried-up 
can without enough life to sputter at the call 
of the negative pole. Everything which serves 
to add to the stored up energy of your system 
is good for you. Quite outside of any 
aesthetic values in listening to music, there is 
the vitalizing influence which is possessed to a 
remarkable degree. Properly listened to, 
music makes tired, weary bodies lose their 
enervated state and become normal. A night 

at the opera is a glorious electrical bath. Join 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

a community chorus if you can, and if you 
can't, sing by yourself. 

Charles D. Isaacson, in "Physical Culture." 



Oh for a booke and a shadie nooke, 

Eyther in doore or out; 

With the grene leaves whispering overhead 

Or the streete cryes all about. 

Where I male reade all at my ease, 

Both of the newe and old; 

For a jollie booke whereon to look, 

Is better to me than golde. 

Old English Song. 



Wings have we, as far as we can go 
We may find pleasure : wilderness and wood, 
Blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood 
Which with the lofty sanctifies the low. 
Dreams, books, are each a world; and books 

we know 

Are a substantial world, both pure and good : 
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and 

blood, 
Our pastime and our happiness will grow. 

William Wordsworth* 
189 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

But I think as one grows older one may 
take out a license, so to speak, to read less. 
One may go back to the old restful books, 
where one knows the characters well, hear the 
old remarks, survey the same scenes. One may 
meditate more upon one's stores, stroll about 
more, just looking at life, seeing the quiet 
things that are happening, and beaming 
through one's spectacles. 

Yes, the old books are a tender-hearted and 

joyful company. 

Arthur C. Benson. 

From "From A College Window." 



Do I smile? 

Does my face show my joy in spite of all effort to 
conceal it? 

And you cannot guess my good fortune? 

No; I have not picked up a purse, nor inherited 
an estate, nor won a race, nor had a manu- 
script accepted. 

I have only found a friend. 

I have spun another golden thread out of my 
heart to bind me to my fellows. 

Ernest Crosby. 



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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

FRIENDSHIP 

A ruddy drop of manly blood 

The surging sea outweighs, 

The world uncertain comes and goes; 

The lover rooted stays. 

I fancied he was fled, 

And, after many a year, 

Glowed unexhausted kindliness, 

Like daily sunrise there. 

My careful heart was free again, 

O friend, my bosom said, 

Through thee alone the sky is arched, 

Through thee the rose is red ; 

All things through thee take nobler form, 

And look beyond the earth. 

The will-round of our fate appears 

A sun-path in thy worth. 

Me too thy nobleness has taught 

To master my despair; 

The fountains of my hidden life 

Are through thy friendship fair. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



A FRIEND 

Life offers no joy like a friend; 

Fulfilment and prophecy blend 
In the throb of a heart with its own, 
A heart where we know and are known. 

Lucy. Larcom< 
191 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

LEST WE FORGET 

Lest we forget who it is that rises morning 
after morning, the whole year through, and 
goes to his labor, let us sometimes recall the 
long, daily procession of men, from those with 
the shovel and dinner-pail who travel on foot, 
to the merchants, the professional men and the 
statesmen who ride to their day's work in their 
automobiles. The occupation may be differ- 
ent, the means of conveyance different, and the 
recompense widely different; but one common 
purpose actuates them, and binds them to- 
gether into a noble fraternity. Somewhere 
there is waiting a little woman with her chil- 
dren, a father or mother or sister; it may be 
in the one attic room, or in the palace, but it is 
home, and for this home will the man toil and 
sacrifice, if need be, as long as he has strength. 

There is something exceedingly fine and 
touching about this every-day existence of our 
men, something that dignifies life and dignifies 
labor and commands our highest respect. 
What a wealth of unwritten history it repre- 
sents struggle, weariness, tragedy, defeat, 
poetry, victory, and glory. Each has a special 

burden which few of the others suspect; for it 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

is a part of their splendid game of life to ap- 
pear contented and prosperous, come what 
may. 

We women appreciate these generous- 
hearted men, and we will do the sweet and 
tender things for them now, while they are 
ours. We will labor with them, weep with 
them, smile with them, aspire with them, and 
develop with them. 

Blanche B. Herbert. 



But when a crony takes your hand 

At parting to address you, 
He drops all foreign lingo, and 

He says, " Good-bye, God bless you ! " 


And all day long with pleasing song 

It lingers to caress you. 
I'm sure no human heart goes wrong 

That's told, " Good-bye, God bless you." 

Eugene Field. 

From " The Poems of Eugene Field; " copyrighted, 1910, by 
Julia Sutherland Field; published by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
By permission of the publishers. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



A LOVE SONG 

Who cares for winter wild without, 

Who cares for frost and snow, 
When all the one he thinks about, 

Is where the roses grow? 
Her smiles are sweet as sunshine bright; 

Her eyes like heaven's own blue; 
She fills for me the world with light 

Because she's dear and true! 



Who cares for winds that bitter blow, 

For sleet or stinging rain, 
When he at heart doth surely know 

His love gives love again? 
Her whispers are like leaves attune, 

With wonder of the wind; 
Her very presence sweet as June 

Enchanting heart and mind ! 

William Brunton. 



LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT 

It's we two, it's we two for aye, 

All the world, and we two, and Heaven be our 

stay! 

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride ! 
All the world was Adam once, with Eve by his 

side. 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 



What's the world, my lass, my love! what can 

it do? 
I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and 

new. 
If the world have missed the mark, let it stand 

by; 
For we two have gotten leave, and once more 

will try. 

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! 
It's we two, it's we two, happy side by side. 
Take a kiss from me, thy man; now the song 

begins : 
" All is made afresh for us, and the brave heart 

wins." 

When the darker days come, and no sun will 

shine, 

Thou shalt dry my tears, lass, and I'll dry thine. 
It's we two, it's we two, while the world's away, 
Sitting by the golden sheaves on our wedding 

day. 

Jean Ingelow. 



HER WAY 

Eyes? Well, no, her eyes ain't much; 
Guess you seen a lot o' such 
Sort o' small an' bluey-gray. 
'T ain't her eyes it's jest her way. 
195 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Hair ain't black, ner even brown ; 
Got no gold upon her crown; 
Sort o' ashy, I should say. 
'T ain't her hair it's jest her way. 

'T ain't her mouth her mouth is wide, 

Sort o' runs from side to side ; 

See 'em better ev'ry day. 

'T ain't her mouth it's jest her way. 

Nose I reckon's nothin' great, 
Couldn't even swear it's straight; 
'Fact, I feel I'm free to say 
'T ain't her nose it's jest her way. 

Love her? Well, I guess I do! 
Love her mighty fond and true; 
Love her better ev'ry day; 
Dunno why it's jest her way. 

Elisabeth Sylvester. 



How many summers, Love, 

Have I been thine? 
How many days, thou dove, 

Hast thou been mine? 
Time, like the winged wind 

When 't bends the flowers, 
Hath left no mark behind, 

To count the hours. 
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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 



Some weight of thought, though loth, 

On thee he leaves; 
Some lines of care round both 

Perhaps he weaves; 
Some fears a soft regret 

For joys scarce known; 
Sweet looks we half forget; 

All else is flown. 

Ah ! with what thankless heart 

I mourn and sing! 
Look where our children start, 

Like sudden Spring! 
With tongues all sweet and low, 

Like a pleasant rhyme, 
They tell how much I owe 

To thee and Time ! 

Bryan W. Procter. 



IT IS VERY COMFORTIN' 

It is very comfortin', 

When your hair is getting thin, 

And the crow feet in your eyes have come to 

stay, 

Just to feel her little hand 
Smoothin' back each silver strand, 
While you meet her lovin' look and hear her 

say 

197 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



My dear, it seems as tho* 

Every year you live you grow 

Handsomer than in the olden days." 

Then you look up at your wife 

And you think in all your life 

You never heard a sweeter word of praise. 

But the tear-drops will arise 
To your dim old fadin' eyes, 
And you kiss the gentle hand, still white and 

small; 

While you try to tell her how 
You loved her then love her now; 
But bless me if the words will come at all; 
For just then there comes to you 
The trials she's gone thro', 
And borne without a murmur for your sake ; 
You can only bow your head 
At the lovin' things she's said, 
While your poor old heart will only ache 

and ache. 

But she knows what ails you then, 

And she kisses you again, 

While you hear her gently whisper, sweet 

and low, 

1 Life has brought more hopes than fears, 
We have known more smiles than tears, 
And the years seem ever brighter as they 

go." 

Yes, 'tis comfortin', you know, 
When your step is gettin' slow 
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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 



And you're slidin' down life's hill a'mighty 

fast 

Just to feel her little hand 
Smoothin* back each silver strand, 
While she tells you that she'll love you to 

the last. 

Los Angeles Herald. 



SWEETHEARTS ALWAYS 

If sweethearts were sweethearts always, 

Whether as maid or wife, 
No drop would be half so pleasant 

In the mingled draught of life. 

But the sweetheart has smiles and blushes, 
While the wife has frowns and sighs, 

And the wife's have a wrathful glitter 
For the glow of the sweetheart's eyes. 

If lovers were lovers always, 

The same to sweetheart and wife, 

Who would change for a future of Eden 
The joys of this checkered life? 

But husbands grow grave and silent, 

And care on the anxious brow 
Oft replaces the sunshine that perished 

With the words of the marriage vow. 

Happy is he whose sweetheart 

Is wife and sweetheart still, 
Whose voice, as of old, can charm him; 

Whose kiss, as of old, can thrill ; 
199 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Who has plucked the rose to find ever 
Its beauty and fragrance increase, 

As the flush of passion is mellowed 
In love's unmeasured peace; 

Who sees in the step a lightness; 

Who finds in the form a grace ; 
Who reads an unaltered brightness 

In the witchery of the face, 

Undimmed and unchanged. Ah, happy 

Is he crowned with such a life! 
Who drinks the wife pledging the sweetheart, 

And toasts in the sweetheart the wife. 

Domestic Monthly. 



" There is a spot of earth supremely blest, 
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest; 
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be 

found ? 

Art thou a man? a patriot? look around; 
Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps 

roam, 
That land thy country, and that spot thy 

home." 



DREAMING OF HOME 

It comes to me often in silence 
When the firelight sputters low 

When the black, uncertain shadows 
Seem wraiths of the long ago; 
200 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Always with a throb of heartache 
That thrills each pulsive vein, 

Comes the old, unquiet longing 
For the peace of home again. 

I'm sick of the roar of cities, 

And of faces cold and strange; 
I know where there's warmth of welcome, 

And my yearning fancies range 
Back to the dear old homestead 

With an aching sense of pain, 
But there'll be joy in the coming 

When I go home again. 

When I go home again ! There's music 

That may never die away, 
And it seems that the hands of angels 

On a mystic heart at play 
Have touched with a yearning sadness 

On a beautiful, broken strain, 
To which is my fond heart wording 

When I go home again. 

Outside of my darkening window 
Is the great world's crash and din, 

And slowly the autumn shadows 
Come drifting, drifting in. 

Sobbing, the night wind murmurs 
To the splash of the autumn rain. 

But I dream of the glorious greeting 

When I go home again. 

Eugene Field. 

From " The Poems of Eugene Field; " copyrighted, 1910, by 
Julia Sutherland Field; published by Charles Scribner's 
Sons, By permission of the publishers. 

201 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE RETURN TO THE OLD TOWN 

O the little old town that I left one day, 
v. Because it was quiet, still 
Has the name that it had when I went away, 

And stands on the same old hill ; 
But the ones that were dear in the little old 

town, 

With its one wide street running up and down, 
Have ceased to sit on the porches where 

The roses were trained to climb ; 
They have ceased to sew and to whittle there, 

As they did in the dear old time. 

The little old church with its wooden sheds 

Still stands as it stood of yore; 
But the ones who knelt and who bowed their 

heads 

Are worshipping there no more! 
And the little old school where I carved my 

name 
On the home-made desk stands just the 

same 
But the boys who are batting- the ball to-day 

And the little maids, fair and free, 
Are not the children who used to play 
On the common there with me! 

The little old house, so dear, so dear, 
Stands just where it used to stand; 

But not for many and many a year 
Has the latch obeyed her hand 

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I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

The hand in which my hand was laid 
When my first few faltering steps were 

made 
And in the little parlor there, 

O'erlooking the little lawn, 
Another sits in her easy chair, 

And hears the clock tick on. 

O the little old town that I left one day 

Because it was quiet and still 
Has the name that it had when I went away, 

And stands on the same old hill; 
But the friends that I've travelled " back 

home " to see 

Are gone, or else are but strangers to me, 
And over the doors of the little old stores 

Are names that I never knew, 
And the dream that was dear of the "old 

home " here 
Can never, alas, come true! 

5*. H. Kiser. 



WHEN DE CO'N PONE'S HOT 

" Dey is times in life when Nature 

Seems to slip a cog an' go, 
Jes' a rattlin' down creation, 
Lak an ocean's overflow; 
When de worl' jes' stahts a-spinnin* 

Lak a picaninny's top, 
An' yo' cup o' joy is brimmin* 
'Twel it seems about to slop. 
203 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



An* yo' feel jes' lak a racah, 
Dat is trainin' fu' to trot 

When yo' mammy ses de blessin' 
An' de co'n pone's hot. 

" When you set down at de table, 

Kin' o' weary lak an' sad, 
An' you'se jes' a little tiahed 

An' purhaps a little mad; 
How yo' gloom tu'ns into gladness, 

How yo' joy drives out de doubt 
When de oven do' is opened, 

An' de smell comes po'in' out; 
Why, de 'lectric light o' Heaven 

Seems to settle on de spot, 
When yo' mammy ses de blessin* 

An' de co'n pone's hot. 

" When de cabbage pot is steamin* 

An' de bacon good an' fat, 
When de chittlin's is a-sputter'n' 

So's to show you whah dey's at, 
Take away yo' sody biscuit, 

Take away yo' cake an' pie, 
Fu' de glory time is comin', 

An' it's 'proachin' very nigh, 
An' you want to jump an' hollah, 

Do' you know you'd bettah not, 
When yo' mammy ses de blessin' 

An' de co'n pone's hot. 

" I have heerd o' lots o' sermons, 

An' I've heerd o' lots o' prayers; 
An' I've listened to some singin' 
Dat has tuk me up de stairs 
204 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Of de Glory-Lan' an' set me 

Jes' below de Mahster's th'one 
An' have lef my hawt a-singin' 

In a happy aftah tone. 
But dem wu'ds so sweetly murmured 

Seem to tech de softes' spot, 
When my mammy ses de blessin', 

An' de co'n pone's hot." 



MY MOTHER 

" Some one I love comes back to me 
With every gentle face I see; 
Beneath each wave of soft gray hair 
I seem to see my mother there. 
With every kindly glance and word, 
It seems as if I must have heard 
Her speak, and felt her tender gaze 
With all the love of olden days. 
And I am moved to take her hand 
And tell her, now I understand 
How tired she grew beneath the strain 
Of feeling every loved one's pain. 
No further burdens could she bear; 
The promise of that land more fair 
Alone could tempt her from her child; 
And now, if I could keep her here, 
No sacrifice could be too dear, 
No tempered winds for her too mild. 
205 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Then I would smooth and kiss her face, 
And by her side take my old place, 
And sob my years and cares away. 
The tears I have so long repressed 
Would lose their ache upon her breast; 
I think if I could feel her touch 
Once more, it would not matter much 
How sunny or how dark the day." 



ROCK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHER 

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your 

flight 

Make me a child again just for to-night! 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore. 
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my 

hair, 

Over my slumbers your loving watch keep ; 
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 

Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No love like mother love ever has shone; 
No other worship abides and endures, 
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours; 
None like a mother can charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary 

brain ; 
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids 

creep; 
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep." 

Elisabeth Akers. 
206 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 



HOME, SWEET HOME 

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may 

roam, 
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like 

home! 
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us 

there, 
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met 

with elsewhere. 

Home! home! sweet, sweet home! 
There's no place like home ; there's no place 

like home. 

How sweet 'tis to sit 'neath a fond father's 
smile, 

And the cares of a mother to soothe and be- 
guile. 

Let others delight 'mid new pleasures to 
roam, 

But give me, oh! give me the pleasures of 

home. 
Home! home! sweet, sweet home! 

But give me, oh! give me the pleasures of 
home. 

To thee I'll return, over-burdened with care. 
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me 

there ; 

No more from that cottage again will I roam 
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like 

home. 

207 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Home! home! sweet, sweet home! 
There's no place like home; there's no place 
like home. 

John Howard Payne. 



THINGS THAT NEVER DIE 

The pure, the bright, the beautiful, 

That stirred their hearts in youth, 
The ^impulses to wordless prayer, 

The dreams of love and truth; 
The longings after something lost, 

The spirit's yearning cry, 
The strivings after better hopes 

These things can never die. 

The timid hand stretched forth to aid 

A brother in his need, 
A kindly word in grief's dark hour 

That proves a friend indeed; 
The plea for mercy, softly breathed, 

When justice threatens high 
The sorrow of a contrite heart 

These things shall never die. 

The memory of a clasping hand, 

The pressure of a kiss, 
And all the trifles, sweet and frail, 

That make up love's first bliss; 
If with a firm, unchanging faith, 

And holy trust and high, 
Those hands have clasped, those lips have 
met 

These things shall never die. 
208 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Let nothing pass, for every hand 

Must find some work to do ; 
Lose not a chance to waken love 

Be firm and just and true; 
So shall a light that cannot fade 

Beam on thee from on high, 
And angel voices say to thee 

These things shall never die. 

Charles Dickens. 



MEMORY 

There's not a heath, however rude, 
But hath some little flower 

To brighten up its solitude 
And scent the evening hour. 

There's not a heart, however cast 
By grief or sorrow down, 

But hath some memory of the past 
To love and call its own." 



A PETITION 

Let me get not far from the common road, 
With, all around me, the common things; 

Let me feel the nip of the Winter's cold; 
The quiver and stir of budding Springs; 

The Summer's heat and the Autumn's lull; 
And a sense of the old world beautiful. 
209 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Let me hear the children about the house 
No sermon so great in all the land 

Let me greet the glance of an earnest eye, 
The cheerful clasp of a toiling hand. 

Let me linger where throbs the heart of life, 
And where hope and valor mark the strife. 

Let me find true rest in weariness ; 

Let me know the worth of the grime of things ; 
And face, clear-eyed, the struggling days 

That come with bruises, but not with stings. 
The Just One ruleth this Vast Estate; 

Shall I count that little which He makes great? 

Julian A. DuBois. 



THE SWEET OF THE SONG 

Disappointments are many and deep, 
But under the shadows the sunbeams sleep, 
And only be patient, the morning will bring 
That old, ineffable, beautiful thing 
The waking of joy from its little gloom, 
And the bursting of life into fresher bloom. 

We think our fortunes are evil and drear, 
But love still smiles through the darkest tear, 
And laughter is waiting to ring and leap 
Whenever the shadows begin to creep 
Slowly and sweetly away again 
And we come forth braver and better men. 
aio 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 



Sometimes sadness will seize us all, 
And spirits of gladness begin to fall; 
But love so patient and sweet and true 
Brushes the clouds from the skies of blue, 
And laughter and beauty come back to the 

song, 
And I cannot be downcast very long. 

Bentztown Bard. 

Copyrighted by. Southern Press Syndicate. 



" Teach me, O star of night, 
With modest, steady light, 
Obedient, glad, to go the way 
From which God bids me not to stay; 
Teach me, O star of night ! 

" Teach me, O flowers of night, 
To wait for summer bright, 
And in the midst of earth's deep woe 
To sprout beneath the winter's snow 
Teach me, O flowers of night! 

" Teach me, thou verdant wood, 
To shelter if I could 
Each being, friend or foe, whose face 
I meet in treading earth's great race; 
Teach me, thou verdant wood ! 

211 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

" Ye ocean waves so fair, 
Teach me my yoke to bear, 
And, like you, when day's voices cease 
Reflect a thought of heavenly peace 
Teach me, ye waves so fair ! 

" O sun, at cool of even 
Show me the way to heaven ; 
Teach me to find in earth's dark night 
The promise of eternal light; 
Teach me, O sun, at even ! " 



BIDE A WEE AND DINNA FRET 

Is the road very dreary? 

Patience yet. 

Rest will be sweeter if thou art a-weary, 
And after night cometh the morning cheery; 

Then bide a wee and dinna fret. 

The clouds have silver lining, 

Don't forget. 
And though he's hidden, still the sun is 

shining ; 
Courage ! instead of tears and vain repining, 

Just bide a wee and dinna fret. 

With toil and cares unending 

Art beset? 
Bethink thee how the storms, from heaven 

descending, 
Snap the stiff oak, but spare the willow 

bending, 
And bide a wee and dinna fret. 

212 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Grief sharper sting doth borrow 

From regret; 

But yesterday is gone, and shall its sorrow 
Unfit us for the present and the morrow? 

Nay ; bide a wee and dinna fret. 

An over-anxious brooding 

Doth beget 

A host of fears and fantasies deluding; 
Then, brother, lest these torments be in- 
truding, 
Just bide a wee and dinna fret. 

Every Other Saturday. 



A SONG FOR THE NEW YEAR 

Forget! for why remember 

The wrongs of yesterday? 
Perchance kind words were spoken 

To heal the breach to-day; 
Then let the past forever be 
A blank leaf in thy memory. 

Forget the Old Year's failings, 
The New will have its share; 

Each one will find that haply 
He hath enough to bear 

Without the memory of the wrong 

That to the Old Year doth belong. 
213 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Let bygones be bygones " for why 
Should thoughts that gender strife 

Be nourished in the bosoms 
That but embitter life? 

And fill this world, that else, were fair, 

With scenes of sorrow, strife, and care? 

Forgive ! for why should we withhold 

The blessings that we need, 
Or let an erring brother 

In vain for mercy plead? 
Oh ! cold must be the hearts, and rare, 
That could reject the suppliant prayer. 

Forgive ! for Time's swift pinions 

Are bearing us along, 
And few may be our moments 

To do or suffer wrong; 
Then let us, while the power is given, 
Forgive, as we would be forgiven ! 

Finley Johnson. 



A BIT OF ADVICE 

Don't cover your cross with prickles. 

It is hard enough to bear, 
It needs all your courage to carry 

And not a bit to spare. 
So take it as it is given, 

And add no care nor fret, 
For under the goad the heaviest load 

Weighs tenfold heavier yet. 
214 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Don't cover your cross with prickles. 

What use are worry and tears? 
They only cripple the spirit, 

They only darken the years. 
No; take up your burden bravely, 

And it will surely grow 
More light each day, as along life's way, 

Your steadfast footsteps go. 

Priscilla Leonard. 



THE STARS 

I lay at my ease in my little boat, 

Fast moored to the shores of the pond, 

And looked up through the trees that swayed in 

the breeze 
At God's own sky beyond. 

And I thought of the want and the sin in the 
world, 

And the pain and grief they bring, 
And I marvelled at God for spreading abroad 

Such sorrow and suffering. 

Evening came creeping over the earth, 

And the sky grew dim and gray, 
And faded from sight, and I grumbled at night 

For stealing my sky away. 
215 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Then out of the dark just the speck of a face 
Peeped forth from its window bars, 

And I laughed to see it smile at me; 
I had not thought of the stars! 

There are millions of loving thoughts and deeds 

All ripe for awakening, 

That never could start from the world's cold 
heart 

But for sorrow and suffering. 

Yes, the blackening night, it is sombre and cold, 

And the day was warm and fine; 
And yet if the day never faded away, 

The stars would never shine ! 

Robert Beverly Hale 



"O don't be sorrowful, darling! 

Now don't be sorrowful, pray ; 
For taking the year together, my dear, 

There isn't more night than day. 
It's rainy weather, my loved one; 

Time's wheels they heavily run; 
But taking the year together, my dear, 

There isn't more cloud than sun." 



In the still air the music lies unheard; 

In the rough marble beauty hides unseen; 
To make the music and the beauty, needs 

The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen. 
216 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

Great Master, touch us with Thy skilful hand : 
Let not the music that is in us die ! 

Great Sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let, 
Hidden and lost, Thy form within us lie ! 

Horatio Bonar. 



O heart of mine, we shouldn't worry so ! 
What we've missed of calm we couldn't 

have, you know! 
What we've met of stormy pain, 
And of sorrow's driving rain, 
We can better meet again, 
If it blow! 

For we know, not every morrow can be 

sad; 
So, forgetting all the sorrow 

We have had, 
Let us fold away our fears, 
And put by our childish tears, 
And through all the coming years, 
Just be glad. 

James Whitcomb Riley. 



ENDURANCE 

How much the heart may bear, and yet not 

break ! 

How much the flesh may suffer, and not die ! 
I question much if any pain or ache 

Of soul or body brings our end more nigh. 
Death chooses his own time ; till that is worn, 
All evils may be borne. 
217 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



We shrink and shudder at the surgeon's knife; 

Each nerve recoiling from the cruel steel, 
Whose edge seems searching for the quivering 
life; 

Yet to our sense the bitter pangs reveal 
That still, although the trembling flesh be torn, 

This, also, can be borne. 

We see a sorrow rising in our way, 

And try to flee from the approaching ill; 
We seek some small escape we weep and 

pray- 
But when the blow falls, then our hearts are 

still, 

Not that the pain is of its sharpness shorn, 
But that it can be borne. 

We wind our life about another life 
We hold it closer, dearer than our own 

Anon it faints and falls in deadly strife, 

Leaving us stunned, and stricken, and alone; 

But ah ! we do not die with those we mourn 
This, also, can be borne. 

Behold, we live through all things famine, 

thirst, 

Bereavement, pain ! all grief and misery, 
All woe and sorrow ; life inflicts its most 
On soul and body but we cannot die, 
Though we be sick, and tired, and faint, and 

worn ; 
Lo! all things can be borne. 

Elizabeth Akers. 
218 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

" If I have faltered more or less 
In my great task of happiness ; 
If I have moved among my race 
And shown no glorious morning face; 
If beams from happy human eyes 
Have moved me not ; if morning skies, 
Books, and my food, and summer rain, 
Knocked on my sullen heart in vain 
Lord, thy most pointed pleasure take, 
And stab my spirit broad awake." 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 



A PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING 

I thank Thee for the blue of the sky, the 
sunshine and the sweetness of the air. I thank 
Thee for the dark days and the storms, for they 
heighten my appreciation of the sunshine, the 
calm and the peace when they are mine. 

I thank Thee for work that keeps we whole- 
somely occupied from morning until night. I 
thank Thee for comforts and joys; and I pray 
Thee to help me to make the most of them 
while they are mine. 

I thank Thee for disappointments, for they 
make me thoughtful, and through them I am 
led to understand what are the real values and 

essentials of life. I thank Thee for sorrows, 

219 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

for from the depths of woe I have learned to 
cry unto Thee a blessing which I might have 
missed had I always been happy. I thank 
Thee for pain, failure and want, for through 
them I am cleansed of self, my mind and heart 
are enlarged, my insight is deepened, and I 
am thus enabled to be a more discerning and 
sympathetic friend and neighbor. These 
every-day blessings and experiences they are 
all mine. 

I pray Thee to increase my power to surfer 
in silence that I may not add to the woes of 
others, and to help me to smile and carry a 
cheerful voice that I may add a few more rays 
of sunshine to the brightness of the day. 

Blanche H. Herbert. 



'AN EVENING PRAYER 

We beseech Thee, Lord, to behold us with 
favor, folk of many families and nations, gath- 
ered together in the peace of this roof. Be 
patient still ; suffer us a while longer to endure, 
and (if it may be) help us to do better. Bless 
to us our extraordinary mercies. Bless our 

friends; be with ourselves. Go with each of 

220 



I WILL MENTION MY BLESSINGS INSTEAD 
OF MY BURDENS 

us to rest. If any awake, temper to them the 
dark hours of watching; and when the day re- 
turns to us, call us up with morning faces and 
with morning hearts eager to labor eager 
to be happy, if happiness shall be our por- 
tion and if the day be marked for sorrow 
strong to endure it. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 



" For the world is full of roses, and the roses 

full of dew, 

And the dew is full of heavenly love that 
drips for me and you." 



221 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE 
OF YESTERDAY AND TO-MOR- 
ROW INSTEAD OF THE 
CLOUDS OF TO-DAY 



1 The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud." 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE 
OF YESTERDAY AND TO-MOR- 
ROW INSTEAD OF THE 
CLOUDS OF TO-DAY 



All sorts of things and weather 
Must be taken in together, 
To make up a year 
And a sphere. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



It ain't no use to grumble and complain, 
It's just as cheap and easy to rejoice ; 

When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, 
Why, rain's my choice. 

James Whitcomb Riley. 



DAME NATURE'S RECIPE 

Take a dozen little clouds 

And a patch of blue ; 
Take a million raindrops, 

As many sunbeams, too. 
225 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Take a host of violets, 

A wandering little breeze, 
And myriads of little leaves 

Dancing on the trees. 

Then mix them well together, 

In the very quickest way, 
Showers and sunshine, birds and flowers, 

And you'll have an April day. 

Rachel G. Smith. 



SUMMER RAIN 

Pell ! mell ! comes the rushing rain, 
The sad little brook laughs loud again. 
The thirsty leaves on the great elm-tree 
Drink up their portion thankfully. 

There's a stir of joy in the garden-place; 
Almost a smile on the pansy's face; 
And I seem to hear a red rose say, 
How glad I am that it rains to-day ! 

Down in a hollow in the path 
Little Brown Sparrow is taking a bath, 
And the pool in the yard is in perfect trim 
For the baby ducks to have a swim. 

Down fall the bright drops, tink-a-link! 
A robin hastens to get a drink. 
Through the flooded street, with^a shout of joy, 
And a splash and a dash, goes a barefooted boy. 
226 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE INSTEAD 
OF THE CLOUDS 

Soft, soft, comes the gentle rain ; 
The faded earth is bright again ; 
And hark ! the joyous children cry, 
A rainbow ! A rainbow in the sky ! 

Mary F. Butts. 



There can be no very black melancholy to 
him who lives in the midst of Nature and has 
his senses still. There was never yet such a 
storm but it was 2Eolian music to a healthy 
and innocent ear. Nothing can rightly com- 
pel a simple and brave man to a vulgar sad- 
ness. While I enjoy the friendship of the 
seasons I trust that nothing can make life a 
burden to me. The gentle rain which waters 
my beans and keeps me in the house to-day is 
not drear and melancholy, but good for me 
too. Though it prevents my hoeing them, it 
is of far more worth than my hoeing. If it 
should continue so long as to cause the seeds 
to rot in the ground and destroy the potatoes 
in the lowlands, it would still be good for the 
grass on the uplands, and, being good for the 
grass, it would be good for me. 

Henry D. Thoreau. 



227 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

" It is not raining rain to me, 

It's raining daffodils; 
In every dimpled drop I see 
Wild flowers on the hills. 

" The clouds of gray engulf the day 

And overwhelm the town; 
It is not raining rain to me, 
It's raining roses down. 

" It is not raining rain to me, 

But fields of clover bloom, 
Where any buccaneering bee 
Can find a bed and room. 

" A health unto the happy, 

A fig for him who frets! 
It is not raining rain to me, 
It's raining violets ! " 



Just whistle a bit if the day be dark 

And the sky be overcast. 
If mute be the voice of the piping lark, 

Why, pipe your own small blast. 

And it's wonderful how o'er the gray sky-track, 
The truant warbler comes stealing back. 

But why need he come? for your soul's at rest, 
And the song in the heart, ah, that is the best. 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 
228 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE INSTEAD 
OF THE CLOUDS 

" Each gift is as we use it : 
Each place its cloud must share. 
Except as we refuse it 
There's sunshine everywhere." 



There is ever a song somewhere, my dear; 
There is ever a something sings always; 
There's the song of the lark when the skies are 

clear 
And the song of the thrush when the skies are 

gray. 

The sunshine showers across the grain, 
And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree; 
And in and out when the eaves drip rain, 
The swallows are twittering ceaselessly. 

There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, 

Be the skies above or dark, or fair, 
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear 
There is ever a song somewhere ! 

James Whit comb Riley. 



I know of no nobler forage ground for a 
romantic, venturesome, mischievous boy, than 
the garret of an old family mansion, on a day 
of storm. It is a perfect field of chivalry. 

The heavy rafters, the dashing rain, the piles of 

229 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



spare mattresses to carouse upon, the big 
trunks to hide in, the old white coats and hats 
hanging in obscure corners, like ghosts are 
great ! . . . You glide away into a corner 
with an old, dogs'-eared copy of Robinson 
Crusoe. And you grow heart and soul into the 
story, until you tremble for the poor fellow 
with his guns, behind the palisade; and are 
yourself half dead with fright, when you peep 
cautiously over the hill with your glass, and 
see the cannibals at their orgies around the 
fire. . . . And so, with your head upon 
your hand, in your quiet garret comer, over 
some such beguiling story, your thought leans 
away from the book into your own dreamy 
cruise over the sea of life. 

Donald G. Mitchell 



TIME TO TINKER 'ROUN' 

Summah's nice, wif sun a-shinin', 

Spring is good wif greens and grass, 
An' dey's somethings nice 'bout wintah, 

Dough hit brings de freezin' bias' ; 
But de time dat is de fines', 

Whethah fiel's is green er brown, 
Is w'en de rain's a-po'in* 

An' dey's time to tinker 'roun'. 
230 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE INSTEAD 
OF THE CLOUDS 

Den you men's de mule's ol* ha'ness, 

An' you men's de broken chair, 
Hummin* all de time you's wukin' 

Some ol' common kind o' air. 
Evah now an' then you looks out, 

Tryin' mighty ha'd to frown, 
But you cain't, you's glad hit's rainin', 

An* dey's time to tinker 'roun'. 

Oh, you 'ten's lak you so anxious 

Evah time it so't o' stops, 
Wen hit goes on, den you reckon 

Dat de wet'll he'p de crops. 
But hit ain't de crops you's af tah ; 

You knows w'en de rain conies down 
Dat hit's too wet out fu' wukin', 

An' dey's time to tinker 'roun'. 

Oh, dey's fun inside de co'n-crib, 

An' dey's laffin' at de ba'n ; 
An' dey's allus some one jokin', 

Er some one to tell a ya'n. 
Dah's a quiet in yo' cabin, 

Only fu' de rain's sof soun'; 
So you's mighty blessed happy 

W'en dey's time to tinker 'roun' ! 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 



31 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



MOTHER'S RAINY DAY 

Sometimes there's a rainy day; an' then 
We lay off a spell, we men. 
Pa talks politicks and reads the papers, 
And we boys putter 'round and cut up capers, 
An' whittle, even down to little brother. 
But dunno as I can recollect a rainy day for 
mother. 



Seems as if she worked harder then than any 

other day, 

Trying to keep things straight and put away, 
Stirrin' up the fire so it won't seem dreary, 
Cookin' something extra then, makin' things 

more cheery; 

Pickin' up pa's slippers, or something or another. 
I don't believe there ever was a rainy day for 

mother. 



But then she don't complain. Just keeps work- 
in' on. 

Sometimes she has a pleasant word, sometimes 
a bit of song, 

And lots of times I fancy she has a tired look 

An' I'd feel lots better if she'd rest or read a 
book. 

A,n' then I wipe the dishes, or do something or 
another, 

An' wish with all my heart there was a rainy 
day for mother. 

Florence A. Hayes. 
232 



I WILL SPEAK OF THE SUNSHINE INSTEAD 
OF THE CLOUDS 

" A little bit of patience often makes the sun- 
shine come, 

And a little bit of love makes a very happy 
home; 

A little bit of hope makes a rainy day look 
gay, 

And a little bit of charity makes glad a weary 
way." 



" Whatever the weather may be," says he 

" Whatever the weather may be, 
It's the songs ye sing, an' the smiles ye wear, 
That's a-making the sun shine everywhere; 
An' the world of gloom is a world of glee, 
Wid the bird in the bush, an' the bird in the 

tree, 
An' the fruit on the stim o' the bough," 

says he, 

" Whatever the weather may be," says he 
" Whatever the weather may be." 

James Whitcomb Riley. 



The cock is crowing, 
The stream is flowing, 
The small birds twitter, 
The lake doth glitter, 
,The green field sleeps in the sun; 
The oldest and youngest 
Are at work with the strongest; 

233 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The cattle are grazing, 

Their heads never raising; 
There are forty feeding like one ! 

Like an army defeated 

The snow hath retreated, 

And now doth fare ill 

On the top of the bare hill ; 
The Ploughboy is whooping anon anon : 

There's joy in the mountains; 

There's life in the fountains; 

Small clouds are sailing, 

Blue sky prevailing; 
The rain is over and gone ! 

! William Wordsworth. 



234 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD 
OF CRITICISE 



"Pray for a short memory to all unkindness. 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF 
CRITICISE 



Die when I may, I want it said of me by 
those who know me best that I always plucked 
a thistle and planted a flower, where I thought 
a flower would grow. 



Abraham Lincoln. 



THE WASP AND THE BEE 

A wasp met a bee that was just buzzing by, 
And he said, " Little cousin, can you tell me 

why 
You are loved so much better by people 

than I? 

" My back shines as bright and as yellow as 

gold, 

And my shape is most elegant too, to behold; 
Yet nobody likes me for that, I am told." 

" Ah, cousin," the bee said, " 'tis all very true; 
But if I had half as much mischief to do, 
Indeed they would love me no better than you. 
237 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



" You have a fine shape and a delicate wing; 
They own you are handsome ; but then there's 

one thing 
They cannot put up with, and that is your 

sting. 

" My coat is quite homely and plain, as you see, 
Yet nobody ever is angry with me, 
Because I'm a humble and innocent bee." 

From this little story let people beware : 
Because, like the wasp, if ill-natured they are, 
They will never be loved, if they're ever so fair. 

Jane Taylor. 



A CREED 

I believe in Human kindness 

Large amid the sons of men, 
Nobler far in willing blindness 

Than in censure's keenest ken. 
I believe in Self-Denial, 

And its secret throb of joy; 
In the love that lives through trial, 

Dying not, though death destroy. 

I believe in Love renewing 

All that sin hath swept away, 
Leavenlike its work pursuing 

Night by night and day by day; 
In the power of its remoulding, 

In the grace of its reprieve, 
In the glory of beholding 

Its perfection I believe. 
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I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



I believe in Love Eternal, 

Fixed in God's unchanging will, 
That beneath the deep infernal 

Hath a depth that's deeper still I 
In its patience its endurance 

To forbear and to retrieve, 
In the large and full assurance 

Of its triumph I believe. 

Norman Macleod. 



A HINT OF LIFE 

Don't look for the flaws as you go through life; 

And even when you find them, 
It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind, 

And look for the virtues behind them ; 
For the cloudiest night has a hint of light 

Somewhere in the shadows hiding. 
It is better by far to hunt for a star 

Than the spot on the sun abiding. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



So many little faults we find : 

We see them, for not blind 

Is love we see them ; but if you and I 
Remember them, perhaps, some by and by 

They will not be 

Faults then, grave faults to you and me, 

But just odd ways, mistakes, or even less 

Remembrances to bless. 

George Klingle. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



If we noticed little pleasures 

As we notice little pains; 
If we quite forgot our losses 

And remembered all our gains; 
If we looked for people's virtues 

And their faults refused to see, 
What a comfortable, happy, 

Cheerful place this world would be." 



" Only a frown ! Yet it pressed a sting 

Into the day which had been so glad; 
The red rose turned to a scentless thing: 
The bird-song ceased with discordant ring; 
And a heart was heavy and sad. 

" Only a smile ! yet it cast a spell 

Over the sky which had been so gray; 
The rain made music wherever it fell; 
The wind sang the song of the marriage-bell, 
And a heart was light and gay." 



Only a smile that was given me 

On the crowded street one day 
But it pierced the gloom of my saddened heart 

Like the sudden sunbeam's ray. 
The shadows of doubt hung over me 

And the burdens of pain I bore, 
And the voice of hope I could not hear 

Though I listened o'er and o'er. 
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" But there came a rift in the crowd about 

And a face I knew passed by, 
And the smile I caught was brighter to me 

Than the blue of a summer sky; 
For it gave me back the sunshine 

And it scattered each sober thought, 
And my heart rejoiced in the kindly warmth 

Which that kindly smile had wrought." 



SPEAK NO ILL 

Nay, speak no ill! a kindly word 

Can never leave a sting behind : 
And, oh ! to breathe each tale we've heard 

Is far beneath a noble mind. 
Full oft a better seed is sown, 

By choosing thus the kinder plan; 
For if but little good be known, 

Still let us speak the best we can. 

' Give us the heart that fain would hide, 

Would fain another's faults efface; 
How can it please e'en human pride 

To prove humanity but base? 
No ! let us reach a higher mood, 

A nobler sentiment of man; 
Be earnest in the search of good, 
And speak of all the best we can. 
241 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Then speak no ill, but lenient be 

To other's failings as your own; 
If you're the first a fault to see, 

Be not the first to make it known. 
For life is but a passing day, 

No lip may tell how brief its span; 
Then, oh ! the little time we stay, 

Let's speak of all the best we can." 



UNCLE DAN'S PHILOSOPHY 

Ever heard of Uncle Dan? 
Such a queer, peculiar man! 

Never grumbles come what may, 
" What's the use of it! " says he; 
" Frettin' never seems to pay 

Anyway, it don't with me, 
When a thing has happened why, 
' What's done can't be helped,' says I: 
So, to show you've got some grit, 
Grin, an' make the best of it." 

Strange old fellow, Uncle Dan! 
" Always stan' up for a man 

When they're down on him," says he, 
" 'Till you know he's in the wrong 
Frien's ain't what they ought to be 

When you buy 'em with a song. 
I go in for trustin' men; 
Sometimes I get fooled but then, 
Better trust an' be deceived 
Than to never have believed ! " 
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Dear, old-fashioned Uncle Dan! 
Steadfast friend and honest man: 

Brave with faith in human kind, 
Strong with trust in God above; 
To a comrade's frailties blind, 

Quick to see with eyes of love! 
There's a sermon in his creed 
Surely he who runs may read, 
And the world's a brighter place 
Since he looked it in the face. 

Eben E. Rexford. 



LIFE'S SCARS 

They say the world is round and yet 

I often think it square, 
So many little hurts we get 

From corners here and there. 
But one great truth in life I've found, 

While journeying to the West, 
The only folks who really wound 

Are those we love the best. 

The man you thoroughly despise 

Can rouse your wrath, 'tis true; 
Annoyance in your heart will rise 

At things mere strangers do; 
But those are only passing ills, 

This rule all lives will prove : 
The rankling wound which aches and thrills 

Is dealt by hands we love. 
243 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The choicest garb, the sweetest grace, 

Are oft to strangers shown; 
The careless mien, the frowning face 

Are given to our own. 
We flatter those we scarcely know; 

We please the fleeting guest; 
And deal full many a thoughtless blow 

To those who love us best. 

Love does not grow on every tree, 

Nor true hearts yearly bloom. 
Alas, for those who only see 

This cut across a tomb! 
But, soon or late, the fact grows plain 

To all through sorrow's test : 
The only folks who give us pain 

Are those we love the best. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



OUR OWN 

If I had known in the morning 

How wearily all the day 
The words unkind would trouble my mind 

I said when you went away, 
I had been more careful, darling, 

Nor given you needless pain ; 
But we vex our own with look and tone 

We might never take back again. 
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" For though in the quiet evening 

You should give me the kiss of peace, 
Yet it well might be that never for me 
The pain of the heart should cease. 
How many go forth at morning, 

Who never come home at night; 
And hearts have broken for harsh words 

spoken 
That sorrow could ne'er set right! 

" We have careful thought for the stranger, 

And smiles for the sometime guest. 
But oft for our own the bitter tone, 

Though we love our own the best. 
Ah, lip with the curve impatient, 

Ah, brow with the look of scorn. 
'Twere a cruel fate were the night too late 

To undo the work of morn ! " 

Margaret Sangster. 



WE DO NOT CARE 

We do not care what the world may say 

If those whom we love are true; 
We do not mind the toil of the day 

If we know in the dusk and the dew 
There waits some one who will welcome us 

As we come home to rest 
Some friends who will say, " Dear heart, I 
know 

That to-day you have done your best." 
245 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



We do not mind if the thorns are sharp, 

Or the pathway is rough and steep ; 
We do not mind if we plow and sow 

For others to come and reap. 
If we can but hear, when the twilight comes 

And the red in the West grows gray, 
Some dear voice whisper these words of 
cheer: 

" You have fought a good fight to-day." 

For the heart don't care what the world may 

say 

If those whom it loves are true, 
For 'twas ever and always the heart's own 

way 

To long for the love and rue. 
You forget the gain, the loss, and the pain 

That tortures your pulsing breast, 
If there's one who always in sweet, blind 

faith 
Can say : " You have done your best." 

Will D. Muse. 



1 I've a sweetheart that's the merriest boy in all 
the County Clare. 

His whistle's like the blackbird's lute in Spring- 
time's larchwoods fair, 

An' if I'm troublin' any time, ' Be aisy, love,' 
says Dan, 

'An' if you can't be aisy, be as aisy as you can ! ' 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



" He'll up at dawn to find me the wee red cow 

that strays, 
His hand will make the butter come on weary 

churnin' days. 
An* when the world seems all awry, ' Be aisy, 

love/ says Dan, 
'An' if you can't be aisy, be as aisy as you can ! f 

" He's such a way with all the girls, an' when 

in buckled shoes 
He steps the jig 'tis many a maid for partner 

he might choose. 
But tho' his smile's for every one, ' Be aisy, 

love,' says Dan, 
'An' if you can't be aisy, be as aisy as you can ! ' 

" Oh, there's no one like my sweetheart all the 

way thro' County Clare, 
An' he says we'll just be married when the 

May-bloom scents the air, 
An' 'tis life will be all springtime, for ' Be aisy, 

love,' says Dan, 
'An' if you can't be aisy, be as aisy as you 

can!*" 



A good wife rose from her bed one morn 
And thought, with a nervous dread, 

Of the piles of clothes to be washed, and more 
Than a dozen mouths to be fed. 
*47 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

' There's the meals to get for the men in the 

field, 

And the children to fix away 
To school, and the milk to be skimmed and 

churned ; 
And all to be done this day/ 

" It rained in the night, and all the wood 

Was wet as it could be ; 
There were puddings and pies to bake, besides 

A loaf of cake for tea. 
And the day was hot, and her aching head 

Throbbed wearily as she said, 
* If maidens but knew what good wives know, 
They would not be in haste to wed ! ' 



"Jennie, what do you think I told Ben Brown?' 

Called the farmer from the well; 
And a flush crept up to his bronzed brow, 

And his eyes half-bashfully fell: 
* It was this,' he said, and coming near 

He smiled and stooping down, 
Kissed her cheek * 'twas this, that you were 

the best 
And the dearest wife in town.' 



The farmer went back to the field, and the 

wife, 

In a smiling, absent way, 
Sang snatches of tender little songs 
She'd not sung for many a day. 
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I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



And the pain in her head was gone, and the 
clothes 

Were white as the foam of the sea; 
Her bread was light, and her butter was sweet, 

And as golden as it could be. 

'Just think,' the children all called in a breath, 

' Tom Wood has run off to sea ! 
He wouldn't, I know, if he'd only had 

As happy a home as we/ 
The night came down, and the good wife 

smiled 

To herself, as she softly said: 
' 'Tis so sweet to labor for those we love 
It's not strange that maids will wed ! ' " 



ARE YOU SURE? 

Are you sure you made her happy? 

That the pleasant smile she wears 
Doesn't mask a heart that's longing 

For relief from household cares? 

Are you sure her strength is equal 
To the tasks that she must do 

That she never needs assistance 
Or encouragement from you? 

Are you sure she doesn't miss it 
The old love-light in your eye? 

The tender words once spoken 
In the days long, long gone by? 
249 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Are you sure she's never lonely, 
When you're absent from her side? 

Ah ! the heart is crying always 
For companionship denied. 

Are you sure you understand her, 

Or appreciate her worth? 
Must you wait to be awakened, 

When no longer she's on earth? 

Hannah Leary Doppman. 



THE WOMAN WHO UNDERSTANDS 

She makes no plans for you to fulfill, 

The woman who understands, 
She sends no unwished grist to your mill, 

The woman who understands. 
'Tis the thought she brings 
That sings and sings 

Into the heart of you, 
Till it flows and glows 
And finally grows 

Into visions of dreams come true. 

She sits and smiles from her easy chair, 
The woman who understands, 

And as she listens your plans grow clear, 
The woman who understands, 

She lays no claim 

For heart or brain, 
250 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



To what she is giving you, 
'Tis her soul's fine grace 
Gives you strength for the race, 

The race that makes dreams come true. 
Gertrude Cap en Whitney. 



WHY DO WE FORGET? 

When friends have done the loving deed 

Or reached the kindly hand, 
Or given help in time of need 

Why do we sometimes stand 
And check the flowing of the tears 

And keep the lips firm set 
Till love, indifference appears? 

Oh why do we forget? 

Do we forget? " Oh no! Oh no! 

The kindly deed we keep 
Within our hearts where'er we go, 

Or waking, or asleep." 
Then why not say the thankful word, 

And let the tear-drops flow? 
And show the depths within us stirred? 

Oh why dissemble so? 

We cannot tell, but this is true, 
With souls that deepest feel; 

We cannot do what we would do, 
Unwilling to reveal 

251 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The measure of our sympathy, 

And so we sometimes let 
The friends we love most faithfully 

Think that we can forget. 

Julia Harris May. 



WHEN I HAVE TIME 

When I have time so many things I'll do 

To make life happier and more fair 

For those whose lives are crowded now wfth 

care; 

I'll help to lift them from their low despair, 
When I have time. 

When I have the time the friend I love so well 
Shall know no more these weary toiling days; 
I'll lead her feet in pleasant paths always, 
And cheer her heart with words of sweetest 
praise, 

When I have time. 

When you have time ! The friend you hold so 

dear 
May be beyond the reach of all your sweet 

intent; 

May never know that you so kindly meant 
To fill her life with sweet content, 
When you had time. 

2Z2 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



Now is the time ! Ah, friend, no longer wait 
To scatter loving smiles and words of cheer 
To those around whose lives are now so dear; 
They may not need you in the coming year 
Now is the time. 

Medical Missionary Record. 



GIVE THEM THE FLOWERS NOW 

Closed eyes can't see the white roses; 

Cold hands can't hold them, you know; 
Breath that is stilled cannot gather 

The odors that sweet from them blow. 
Death, with a peace beyond dreaming 

Its children of earth doth endow; 
Life is the time we can help them, 

So give them the flowers now. * 

Here are the struggles and striving; 

Here are the cares and the tears; 
Now is the time to be smoothing 

The frowns and the furrows and fears. 
What to closed eyes are kind sayings? 

What to hushed heart is deep vow? 
Naught can avail after parting, 

So give them the flowers now. 

Just a kind word or a greeting, 
Just a warm grasp or a smile 

These are the flowers that will lighten 
The burdens for many a mile. 
253 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



After the journey is over 

What is the use of them ; how 

Can they carry them who must be carried? 
O, give them the flowers now. 

Blooms from the happy heart's garden 

Plucked in the spirit of love ; 
Blooms that are earthly reflexions 

Of flowers that blossom above. 
Words cannot tell what a measure 

Of blessing such gifts will allow 
To dwell in the lives of many, 

So give them the flowers now. 

Leigh M. Hodgef. 



If you have a friend worth loving, 
Love him. Yes, and let him know 

That you love him, ere life's evening 
Tinge his brow with sunset glow. 

Why should good words ne'er be said 

Of a friend till he is dead? 

If you hear a song that thrills you, 

Sung by any child of song, 
Praise it. Do not let the singer 

Wait deserved praises long. 
Why should one who thrills your heart 
Lack the joy you may impart? 
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I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



" If you see the hot tears falling 
From a brother's weeping eyes, 

Share them. And by kindly sharing 
Own our kinship in the skies. 

Why should any one be glad 

When a brother's heart is sad? 

" If a silvery laugh goes rippling 

Through the sunshine on his face, 
Share it. 'Tis the wise man's saying 

For both grief and joy a place. 
There's health and goodness in the mirth 
In which an honest laugh has birth. 

" If your work is made more easy 

By a friendly, helping hand, 
Say so. Speak out brave and truly 

Ere the darkness veil the land. 
Should a brother workman dear 
Falter for a word of cheer? 



" Scatter thus your seeds of kindness 

All enriching as you go 
Leave them. Trust the Harvest Giver; 

He will make each seed to grow. 
So, until the happy end, 
Your life shall never lack a friend." 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



COMFORT ONE ANOTHER 
Comfort one another, 
For the way is growing dreary, 
And the feet are often weary, 

And the heart is oh, how sad I 
There are heavy burdens bearing, 
When it seems that none are caring, 

And we half forget that ever we were glad. 

Comfort one another, 

With the hand-clasp close and tender, 

With the sweetness love can render, 

And the look of friendly eyes. 
Do not wait with grace unspoken, 
When life's daily bread is broken, 

Gentle speech is oft like manna from the 
skies. 

Comfort one another, 

There are words of music ringing 

Down the ages sweet as singing, 

Of the happy choirs above. 
Ransomed saint and holy angel 
Lift the grand and deep evangel. 

There forever they are sounding: "God is 
love." 

Comfort one another, 

By the hope of him who sought us 

In our peril Him who bought us, 

Paying for us with His blood. 
By the faith that will not alter, 
Trusting faith that shall not falter, 

Leaning on the One who is " divinely good." 

Marion M. Smyth. 
256 



I WILL ENCOURAGE INSTEAD OF CRITICISE 



IF WE ONLY UNDERSTOOD 

" If we knew the cares and trials, 

Knew the efforts all in vain, 
And the bitter disappointment, 

Understood the loss and gain 
Would the grim eternal roughness 

Seem I wonder just the same? 
Should we help where now we hinder? 

Should we pity where we blame? 

" Ah ! we judge each other harshly, 

Knowing not life's hidden force 
Knowing not the fount of action 

Is less turbid at its source; 
Seeing not amid the evil 

All the golden grains of good; 
And we'd love each other better 

If we only understood. 

" Could we judge all deeds by motives 

That surround each other's lives, 
See the naked heart and spirit, 

Know what spur the action gives, 
Often we would find it better, 

Purer than we judge we should. 
We should love each other better 

If we only understood. 

" Could we judge all deeds by motives, 

See the good and bad within, 
Often we should love the sinner 
All the while we loathe the sin; 
257 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Could we know the powers working 

To o'erthrow integrity, 
We should judge each other's errors 

More with patient charity." 



Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it; 

Cast sweets into its cup whene'er you can. 
No heart so hard but love at last may win it. 

Love much. Men's souls contract with cold 

suspicion ; 
Shine on them with warm love and they 

expand. 

'Tis love, not creeds, that from a low condition 
Leads mankind up to heights supreme and 

grand. 

Oh, that the world would see and understand ! 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



258 



I WILL BE A FRIEND TO 
EVERY ONE 



"The stranger on the highway, too y 
Is brother unto me and you ." 



I WILL BE A FRIEND TO 
EVERY ONE 



THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD 

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn 

In the peace of their self-content; 
There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart in a 

fellowless firmament; 
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths 

Where highways never ran; 
But let me live by the side of the road 

And be a friend to man. 

Let me live in a house by the side of the road, 

Where the race of men go by 
The men who are good and the men who are bad, 

As good and as bad as I. 
I would not sit in the scorner's seat, 

Or hurl the cynic's ban ; 
Let me live in a house by the side of the road 

And be a friend to man. 

I see from my house by the side of the road, 

By the side of the highway of life, 
The men who press with the ardor of hope, 

The men who are faint with the strife. 
261 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



But I turn not away from their smiles nor their 

tears 

Both parts of an infinite plan; 
Let me live in my house by the side of the road 
And be a friend to man. 

Sam Walter Foss. 



THE SALT OF THE EARTH 

" There's a lot that's seductive in titles and rank, 

In station and pomp and degree, 
And crosses and stars on a nobleman's breast 

Are mighty attractive to see. 
It comforts most people straight through in this 
life 

To think that their blood's clear blue, 
But the salt of the earth is its common folk still, 

Honest and simple and true. 

" They hold fast to justice and freedom and right, 

They're virtuous, manful and strong, 
And it's ever their mission to straighten things 
out 

When the world gets entangled in wrong; 
Not always we're willing to credit them up 

With the glorious things that they do, 
But the salt of the earth is its common folk still, 

Honest and simple and true." 
262 



I WELL BE A FRIEND TO EVERY ONE 



Have you had a kindness shown? 

Pass it on. 
'Twas not given for you alone 

Pass it on. 

Let it travel down the years, 
Let it wipe another's tears, 
Till in Heaven the deed appears 

Pass it on." 



Learn that to love is the one way to know 

Or God or man : it is not love received 
That maketh man to know the inner life 
Of them that love him ; his own love bestowed 

Shall do it. 

Jean Ingelow. 



Pour out thy love like the rush of a river 
Wasting its waters forever and ever; 
Through the burnt sands that reward not the 

giver 

Silent or songful, thou nearest the sea. 
Scatter thy life as the summer shower's pouring! 
What if no bird through the pearl-rain is 

soaring-? 

What if no blossom looks upward adoring? 
Look to the life that was lavished for thee. 

Rose Terry Cook, 
263 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



May I reach 

That purest Heaven be to other souls 
The cup of strength in some great agony, 
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty, 
Be that sweet presence of a good diffused, 
And in diffusion ever more intense ! 
So shall I join the choir invisible, 
Whose music is the gladness of the world. 

George Eliot. 



" Go forth in life, O friend, not seeking love; 

A mendicant that with imploring eye 
And outstretched hand asks of the passers-by 
The alms his strong necessities may move. 
For such poor love, to pity near allied, 
Thy generous spirit may not stoop and wait 
A suppliant, whose prayer may be denied, 

Like a spurned beggar's at a palace gate; 
But thy heart's affluence, lavish, uncontrolled 
The largess of thy love, give full and free, 
As monarchs in their progress scatter gold; 

And be thy heart like the exhaustless sea, 
That must its wealth of cloud and dew bestow, 
Though tributary streams or ebb or flow." 



a6 4 



I WILL BE A FRIEND TO EVERY ONE 



TENDERNESS 

Men called him hard this man of stern affairs 
And breathed his name in cursings more than 
prayers. 

I saw him kneel within a public place 
To kiss the tear-drops from a baby's face. 

Men called him hard, and yet that one caress 
Made him to me the soul of tenderness. 

Douglas Malloch. 



The scent of a blossom from Eden! 

The flower was not given to me, 
But it freshened my spirit forever, 

As it passed on its way to thee! 

In my soul a lingering music: 

The song was not meant for me, 
But I listen, and listen, and wonder 

To whom could it lovelier be. 

The sounds and the scents that float by us 
They cannot tell whither they go; 

Yet however it fails of its errand, 

Love makes the world sweeter I know. 

I know that love never is wasted, 

Nor truth, nor the breath of a prayer; 
And the thought that goes forth as a blessing 

Must live as joy in the air. 

Lucy Larcom. 
265 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



" If I can stop one heart from breaking, 

I shall not live in vain ; 
If I can ease one life the aching, 

Or cool one pain, 
Or help one fainting robin 

Unto his nest again, 
I shall not live in vain." 



LET ME BE REMEMBERED BY WHAT 
I HAVE DONE" 

' Up and away, like the dew of the morning, 

Soaring from earth to its home in the sun, 
So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

' My name and my place and my tomb, all for- 
gotten, 

The brief race of time well and patiently run, 
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

' Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, 

Up to the crown that for me has been won; 
Unthought of by man, in rewards or in praises, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

' Up and away, like the odors at sunset, 

That sweeten the twilight, as darkness 

comes on; 

So be my life a thing felt, but not noticed, 
And I but remembered by what I have done. 
266 



I WILL BE A FRIEND TO EVERY ONE 



" Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in fresh- 
ness, 
When the flowers that it came from are 

closed up and gone, 

So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

" Needs there the praise of the love-written 

record, 
The name and the epitaph graved on the 

stone? 
The things we have lived for, let them be our 

story. 

We ourselves but remembered by what we 
have done. 

" I need not be missed, if my life has been 

bearing 
(As its summer and autumn moved silently 

on) 
The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its 

season, 

I shall still be remembered by what I have 
done. 

" I need not be missed, if another succeed me, 
To reap down those fields which in spring I 

have sown; 
He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed 

by the reaper, 
He is only remembered by what he has done." 



267 



PARTY 

THE CHILDREN AND THE 
CHEERFUL LIFE 



Come to me, O ye children ! 

And whisper in my ear 
What the birds and the winds are singing 

In your sunny atmosphere, 

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 



THE CHILDREN AND THE 
CHEERFUL LIFE 



What the leaves are to the forest, 

With light and air for food, 
Ere their sweet and tender juices, 

Have been hardened into wood, 

That to the world are children ; 

Through them it feels the glow 
Of a brighter and sunnier climate 

Than reaches the trunks below. 

Henry W. Longfellow. 



THE CHILD'S HEART 

The heart of a child, 

Like the heart of a flower, 
Has a smile for the sun 

And a tear for the shower: 
Oh, innocent hours 

With wonder beguiled 
Oh, heart like a flower's 

In the heart of a child ! 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The heart of a child, 

Like the heart of a bird, 
With raptures of music 

Is flooded and stirred; 
Oh, songs without words, 

Oh, melodies wild 
Oh, heart like a bird's 

In the heart of a child! 

The heart of a child, 

Like the heart of the Spring, 
Is full of the hope 

Of what Summer shall bring: 
Oh, glory of things 

In a world undefiled 
Oh, heart like the Spring's 

In the heart of a child ! 

Arthur Austin-Jackson. 



CHILDREN 

Come to me, O ye Children ! 

For I hear you at your play. 
And the questions that perplexed me 

Have vanished quite away. 

Ye open the eastern windows, 

That look toward the sun, 
Where the thoughts are singing swallows 

And the brooks of morning run. 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Your hearts are the birds and the sunshine, 
In your thoughts the brooklets flow, 

But in mine the wind of Autumn 
And the first fall of the snow. 

Ah! what would the world be to us 

If the Children were no more? 
We should dread the desert behind us 

Worse than the dark before. 

For what are our contrivings, 

And the wisdom of our books, 
When compared with your caresses, 

And the gladness of your looks? 

Henry W. Longfellow. 



TIDINGS 

A baby is coming! 

Coming to me ! 
A man-child, or maid-child, 

O which shall it be? 
For which does my heart cry 

In its lone, childless needs, 
For strength, or for tenderness, 

Which supersedes? 

I know not, I list not ! 

Coming to me, 
A man-child, a maid-child, 

God's will, it shall be. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



'Twas He heard my deep cry 
For this sweet, precious boon, 

Bring strength, or bring tenderness, 
Joy cometh soon. 

A baby is coming ! 

Coming to me ! 
A man-child, or maid-child, 

Whiche'er thou mayst be, 
Maternity's rich love 

Is waiting for thee. 
Then come, O heart beautiful ! 

Hasten to me. 

Mrs. J. B. Smith. 



God gave to earth a little human child, 

Who looked into his face, and, looking, smiled. 

Straightway his own smiled back; and by this 

grace 
Heaven smiles forever in a baby's face! 

Gertrude E. Heath. 



And O what time I wondering wait 

To see my flower unfolding, 
Almost I wish Time ne'er could touch 
The baby-bud I'm holding. 

Eugene Field. 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



ONLY A BABY 

Something to live for came to the place, 

Something to die for, maybe ; 
Something to give even sorrow a grace 

And yet it was only a baby ! 

Cooing and laughter and gurgles and cries, 

Dimples for tenderest kisses; 
Chaos of hopes and of raptures and sighs, 

Chaos of fears and of blisses. 

Last year, like all years, the rose and the thorn ; 

This year a wilderness, maybe; 
But heaven stooped under the roof on the morn 

That it brought there only a baby. 

Harriet Prescott Spofford. 



THE BABY 

Where did you come from, baby dear? 
Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where did you get your eyes so blue? 
Out of the sky as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? 
Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did you get that little tear? 
I found it waiting when I got here. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



What makes your forehead so smooth and high? 
A soft hand stroked it as I went by. 

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? 
Something better than any one knows. 

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? 
Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 

Where did you get that pearly ear? 
God spoke, and it came out to hear. 

Where did you get those arms and hands? 
Love made itself into hooks and bands. 

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? 
From the same box as the cherub's wings. 

How did they all just come to be you? 
God thought about me, and so I grew. 

But how did you come to us, you dear? 
God thought of you, and so I am here. 

George McDonald. 



HER ROYAL LITTLENESS 

Just a tiny morsel, 

Delicately sweet 
From her golden halo 

To her little feet. 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



She is fair and dainty, 

Eyes of bluest blue, 
Hands of pinkest wax-work, 

(Nothing much to do.) 

Ears too small for hearing, 

Mouth a sweet, wild rose, 
Cheeks that steal our kisses, 

Very saucy nose. 

She's such a little woman ! 

Perhaps it's better so, 
She creeps into the coldest heart, 

And keeps it warm, you know. 

Hummel Budd. 



TWO LOVERS 

Whose baby is loveliest? 

Mother's own, 
All round the world north, south, east, west- 

Hers alone! 
For whether it be a Chinese tot, 

With eyes aslant and a shaven crown, 
Or a dear little girl of the Land of the Free, 

Or a toddling Prince in Londontown, 
Or the one rare treasure a Soudan slave 

Hugs to her heart, all wee and brown 
Each in its mother's gentle pride 
Is fairer than all the world beside. 

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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Whose mother is loved the best? 

Baby's own. 
She whose cheek was first caressed 

She alone. 
For whether she be an Eskimo, 

Or colored mammy, or stately queen, 
Or a wandering organ grinder's wife, 

Jingling and beating her tambourine, 
In every land where children are 

The baby eyes from their deep, serene 
Gaze, rapture bound by the tender grace 
In the mother's bended, love-lit face. 

Woman's Home Companion. 



LITTLE BROWN BABY 

Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes, 

Come to yo' pappy an' set on his knee. 
What you been doin', suh makin' san' pies? 

Look at dat bib you's ez du'ty ez me. 
Look at dat mouf dat's merlasses, I bet; 

Come hyeah, Maria, an' wipe off his han's. 
Bees gwine to ketch you an' eat you up, yit, 

Bern* so sticky an' sweet goodness lan's ! 

Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes, 

Who's pappy's darlin' an' who's pappy's chile? 
Who is it all de day nevah once tries 

Fu' to be cross, er once loses dat smile? 
Whah did you git dem teef ? My, you's a scamp ! 

Whah did dat dimple come fom in yo' chin? 
Pappy do' know you I b'lieves you's a tramp : 

Mammy, dis hyeah's some ol' straggler got in ! 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Let's th'ow him outen de do' in de san', 

We do' want stragglers a-layin' 'roun' hyeah; 
Let's gin him 'way to de big buggah-man; 

I know he's hidin' erroun hyeah right neah. 
Buggah-man, buggah-man, come in de do', 

Hyeah's a bad boy you kin have fu' to eat 
Mammy an' pappy do' want him no mo', 

Swaller him down f'om his haid to his feet! 

Dah, now, I thought dat you'd hug me up close. 

Go back, ol' buggah, you shan't have dis boy. 
He ain't no tramp, ner no straggler, of co'se; 

He's pappy's pa'dner an' playmate an' joy. 
Come to you' pallet now go to yo' res', 

Wisht you could allus know ease an' clear 

skies; 
Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas' 

Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes! 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 



BABY GOES TO SLEEPY TOWN 

Baby goes to Sleepy Town a dozen times a day, 
But foolish little Baby-heart can never find the 
way. 

Mother has to go along and lead her by the hand 
All the way through Drowsy Lane and on to 
Slumber Land. 

279 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Oh, my little Baby-heart learn the way to go ! 
Mother has such lots to do she can't run to and 

fro. 

******* 

Mother, dear, I never saw the way to Sleepy 

Town. 
Don't you know my eyes are shut before you lay 

me down? 

Margaret Sutton Briscoe. 



LULLABY 

Little one, close those shining eyes; 

'Tis late and the daylight flies 

Even wee crickets have ended their song 
And to sleep they have surely gone. 

So sleep, dear; sleep, and do not cry. 

Hush, dear ! yes, hush-a-by. 

Little one, warm in my arms to-night 

Hush, dear, thy restless cry 
Out in their nests, bright eyes shut tight, 

The little brown birdies lie. 
So sleep, dear; sleep, and do not cry. 
Hush, dear ! yes, hush-a-by. 

Little one, now the soft, dark night 

Has covered the sky so bright 

Baby must sleep yes, dear, that's right, 
We'll rest till the morning light. 

So sleep, dear; sleep, and do not cry. 

Hush, dear; yes, hush-a-by. 

Bessie Warren Campbell. 
280 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



JUNE SLUMBER SONG 

Shut your blue eyes, my pretty one, 

My May blossom, my sweet; 
The roses bend to touch your face, 

The daisies kiss your feet. 

Shut your bright eyes, my little bird, 

My bonny nestling wee, 
While robins sing sweet lullabies 

In yonder apple-tree. 

Shut your sweet eyes, my precious lamb, 

On mother's bosom sleep, 
While white-robed angels, hovering near, 

Their tireless watches keep. 

Mabel Cornelia Matson. 



A CHILD'S EVENSONG 

The sun is weary, for he ran 
So far and fast to-day; 
The birds are weary, for who sang 
So many songs as they? 
The bees and butterflies at last 
Are tired out, for just think too 
How many gardens through the day 
Their little wings have fluttered through. 
And so, as all tired people do, 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



They've gone to lay their sleepy heads 
Deep, deep in warm and happy beds. 
The sun has shut his golden eye 
And gone to sleep beneath the sky. 
The birds and butterflies and bees 
Have all crept into flowers and trees, 
And all lie quiet, still as mice, 
Till morning comes like father's voice. 

So Geoffrey, Owen, Phyllis, you 
Must sleep away till morning too. 
Close little eyes, down little heads, 
And sleep sleep sleep in happy beds. 

Richard LeGallienne. 



The gray shadows bend 

And play-time must end, 

The round, red sun has passed over, 

The birds seek their rest 

In the shady home nest, 

And the bees have left the clover. 

Our dream-bark we take 

Across slumber-lake, 

No thought of harm we borrow; 

With sleepy delight 

We now say, " Good-night, 

God keep us till to-morrow." 

. A. F. 
282 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



LULLABY 

The golden dreamboat's ready, all her silken sails 

are spread, 
And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy 

port of Bed, 
And the fairy's captain's waiting while the busy 

sandman flies 
With the silver dust of slumber closing every 

baby's eyes. 

Oh, the night is rich with moonlight and the sea 
is calm with peace 

And the angels fly to guard you and their watch 
shall never cease, 

And the fairies there await you, they have splen- 
did dreams to spin; 

You shall hear them gayly singing as the dream- 
boat's putting in. 

Like the ripple of the water does the dreamboat's 

whistle blow, 
Only baby ears can catch it when it conies the 

time to go, 
Only little ones may journey on so wonderful a 

ship 
And go drifting off to slumber with no care to 

mar the trip. 

Oh, the little eyes are heavy but the little soul 

is light, 
It shall never know a sorrow or a terror through 

the night. 

283 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



And at last when dawn is breaking and the 

dreamboat's trip is o'er, 
You shall wake to find the mother smiling over 

you once more. 

Edgar A. Guest. 

From " The Path to Home; " 

copyrighted, 1919, by The Reilly & Lee Co. 



CHILD AND MOTHER 

Mother-My-Love, if you'll give me your 

hand, 
And go where I ask you to wander, 

1 will lead you away to a beautiful land 
The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder. 

We'll walk in a sweet-posie garden out there 
Where moonlight and starlight are stream- 
ing 

And the flowers and the birds are filling the air 
With the fragrance and music of dreaming. 

There'll be no little tired-out boy to undress, 

No questions or cares to perplex you; 
There'll be no little bruises or bumps to caress, 

Nor patching of stockings to vex you. 
For I'll rock you away on a silver-dew stream, 

And sing you asleep when you're weary, 
And no one shall know of our beautiful dream 

But you and your own little dearie. 
284 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



And when I am tired I'll nestle my head 

In the bosom that's soothed me so often, 
And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my 

stead 

A song which our dreaming shall soften. 
So, Mother-My-Love, let me take your dear 

hand, 
And away through the starlight we'll 

wander 

Away through the mist to the beautiful land 
The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder! 

Eugene Field. 

From " The Poems of Eugene Field; " copyrighted, 1910, by 
Julia Sutherland Field; published by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
By permission of the publishers. 



"GRANDPA" AND "BABY" 

Grandpa's sitting in his arm-chair 
With the baby on his knee ; 

But the blue eyes shine with mischief: 
Loth to go to sleep is she. 

N 

So he sits and rocks her gently, 
Swaying softly to and fro, 

Singing songs his mother sang him, 
Many, many years ago. 

By and by the eyes grow dimmer; 

Baby sings her " sleepy song "; 
Grandpa, smiling as he listens, 

Thinks his task will not be long. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Soon the eyes, with mischief dancing, 
From his loving gaze are hid; 

For an angel, with soft kisses, 
Has sealed down each heavy lid. 

Still he sits and holds her closely, 
Wishing that his loving arm 

Might be ever near, to shield her 
From all evil, and all harm. 

And he prays the gentle Savior 
That she in His paths may tread; 

Prays that Heaven's choicest blessings 
Fall upon her golden head. 

Grandpa's head bows low and lower, 
The young face is near the old; 

On his arm the threads of silver 
Mingle with the locks of gold. 

In the room, so still and quiet, 
Angel eyes their vigils keep; 

Bending o'er, and safely guarding 
Babe and Grandpa both asleep. 

Annie S. Cornell. 



LOVIN' TIME 

Oh, the day-time's good for play-time 
An' the night-time's good for rest, 

But just between the two there comes 
The time I love the best. 
286 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Then mother takes the rocking chair 

An' in her lap I climb, 
An' put my arms around her neck, 

'Cause that's our lovin' time. 

I tell her all my troubles, 
An' all my secrets, too, 
For she never laughs at me or nags 

Like some boys' mothers do. 

/ 

But if I've been good, we're happy, 
An' if I've been bad, I'm bound 

To tell her all about it 

When our lovin' time comes round. 

An' sometimes I get thinking 

That maybe, after all, 
I'd rather be a little chap 

Than grow up big an' tall. 

For then I couldn't snuggle down 

In mother's lap like this 
Or tell her all that bothered me; 

There's lots of things I'd miss. 

I'd have to go up-stairs alone, 
And things would not seem right 

If mother didn't hear my prayers 
An' tuck the covers tight. 

I'd miss our happy twilight talks, 

For then I couldn't climb 
Up in her lap, but most of all 

I'd miss our lovin' time. 

Cincinnati Enquirer. 
287 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



KISSING TIME 

"Tis when the lark goes soaring 

And the bee is at the bud, 
When lightly dancing zephyrs 

Sing over field and flood; 
When all sweet things in nature 

Seem joyfully achime 
'Tis then I wake my darling, 

For it is kissing time! 

Go, pretty lark, a-soaring, 

And suck your sweets, O bee; 
Sing, O ye winds of summer, 

Your songs to mine and me; 
For with your song and rapture 

Cometh the moment when 
It's half-past kissing time 

And time to kiss again ! 

So so the days go fleeting 

Like golden fancies free, 
And every day that cometh 

Is full of sweets for me ; 
And sweetest are those moments 

My darling comes to climb 
Into my lap to mind me 

That it is kissing time. 

Sometimes, maybe, he wanders 
A heedless, aimless way 

Sometimes, maybe, he loiters 
In pretty, prattling play; 
288 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



But presently bethinks him 

And hastens to me then, 
For it's half-past kissing time 

And time to kiss again! 

Eugene Field. 

From " The Poems of Eugene Field; " copyrighted, 1910, by 
Julia Sutherland Field; published by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
By permission of the publishers. 



NO BABY IN THE HOUSE 

No baby in the house, I know 

'Tis far too nice and clean. 
No toys by careless fingers strewn, 

Upon the floors are seen. 
No finger-marks are on the panes, 

No scratches on the chairs; 
No wooden men set up in rows, 

Or marshalled off in pairs; 
No little stockings to be darned, 

All ragged at the toes ; 
No pile of mending to be done, 

Made up of baby-clothes; 
No little troubles to be soothed; 

No little hands to fold 
No grimy fingers to be washed; 

No stories to be told; 
No tender kisses to be given; 

No nicknames, " Dove " and " Mouse " 
No merry frolics after tea 

No baby in the house ! 

Clara G. Dolliver. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



TIED DOWN 

" They tie you down," a woman said, 
Whose cheeks should have been flam- 
ing red 
With shame to speak of children so. 

" When babies come you cannot go 
In search of pleasure with your friends 
And all your happy wandering ends. 
The things you like you cannot do 
For babies make a slave of you." 

I looked at her and said : " 'Tis true 
That children make a slave of you, 
And tie you down with many a knot, 
But have you never thought to what 
It is of happiness and pride 
That little babies have you tied? 
Do you not miss the greater joys 
That come with little girls and boys? 

" They tie you down to laughter rare, 
To hours of smiles and hours of care, 
To nights of watching and to fears, 
Sometimes they tie you down to tears 
And then repay you with a smile 
And make your trouble all worth while. 
They tie you fast to chubby feet 
And cheeks of pink and kisses sweet. 

" They fasten you with cords of love 
To God divine who reigns above. 
They tie you, whereso'er you roam 
Unto the little place called home, 
290 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



And over sea or railroad track 
They tug at you to bring you back. 
The happiest people in the town 
Are those the babies have tied down. 

" Oh, go your selfish way and free 
But hampered I would rather be, 
Yes, rather than a kingly crown 
I would be, what you term, tied down ; 
Tied down to dancing eyes and charms, 
Held fast by chubby, dimpled arms, 
The fettered slave of girl and boy, 
And win from them earth's finest joy." 

Edgar 'A. Guest. 

From " The Path to Home; " 
copyrighted, 1919, by The Reilly & Lee Co. 



TIRED MOTHERS 

A little elbow leans upon your knee, 

Your tired knee that has so much to bear; 
A child's dear eyes are looking lovingly 

From underneath a thatch of tangled hair. 
Perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch 

Of warm, moist fingers holding yours so 

tight, 
You do not prize this blessing overmuch ; 

You are almost too tired to pray to-night. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



" But is it blessedness? A year ago 
I did not see it as I do to-day 
We are all so dull and thankless, and too 

slow 

To catch the sunshine till it slips away. 
And now it seems surpassing strange to me 
That, while I wore the badge of mother- 
hood, 
I did not kiss more oft and tenderly 

The little child that brought me only 
good. 

" And if, some night, when you sit down to 

rest, 
You miss this elbow from your tired 

knee 
This restless, curly head from off your 

breast, 

This lisping tongue that chatters con- 
stantly ; 
If from your own the dimpled hands had 

slipped, 
And ne'er would nestle in your palm 

again ; 

If the white feet into their grave had tripped, 
I could not blame you for your heartache 
then. 

" I wonder so that mothers ever fret 

At little children clinging to their gowns ; 
Or that the footprints, when the days are 

wet, 

Are ever black enough to make them 
frown. 

292 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



If I could find a little muddy boot, 

Or cap or jacket on my chamber floor; 

If I could kiss a rosy, restless foot, 

And hear it patter in my home once 
more 

If I could mend a broken cart to-day, 

To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky 
There is no woman in God's world could say 

She was more blissfully content than I. 
But, ah ! the dainty pillow next my own 

Is never rumpled by a shining head; 
My singing birdling from its nest has flown; 

The little boy I used to kiss is dead ! " 



A LONELY SPOT 

The dreariest spot in all the world, 

I care not what the zone, 
Is home, sweet home, in summer-time 

When I am there alone. 
The world is fair, the lawns are green, 

The sun pours down its gold, 
But in my lonely den I sit 

In cheerlessness and cold. 

I wander up and down the stair, 

I go from room to room, 
And everything so silent is 

My heart is filled with gloom. 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



The books, the treasures of my boy, 
Confront me everywhere, 

And mutely speak, but he, dear lad, 
The little chap's not there. 



" I look into the nursery 

And find it span and spick: 
To see no toys upon the floor 

Doth make me mortal sick! 
And when I turn to go, and spy 

Two empty little beds, 
It gives my heart a twist to miss 

Two curly little heads ! 

" And in another room, near by, 

To see no patterns there, 
No scissors and no cutting-board, 

No needles in the chair, 
No cotton threads upon the mat, 

No spools of silk about, 
The tears that well up in my eyes 

Suggest a waterspout. 

" Egad ! 'tis not a pleasant thing, 
As some good folks suggest, 
To send one's family away 

And stay at home for rest. 
There's lots of quiet to be had, 

But give me rather noise, 
As long as quiet can't be had 
Along with little boys." 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



MY COUNTRY BOY 

Where daisies and buttercups bloom in the fields, 

Where, 'midst willow trees, ripples along 
A mountain creek, prancing and dancing with 
glee, 

Humming a soft little song, 
Where over the mountains in beauty sublime 

Awakens the light of each morn, 
To smile on sweet meadows and forest-clad hills, 

There my baby, my darling, was born. 

And here in this valley of sunshine and peace 
Shall he grow to be healthy and strong; 

Amidst daisies and buttercups romp in the fields, 
And rival the birds in their song. 

He shall climb o'er the mountains, and dream by 

the brook, 
A true child of Nature to be; 

His eyes full of laughter, his heart full of mirth, 

Barefooted and happy and free ! 

Hebe. 



FIRST TROUSERS 

Little man, little man, 

With your little trousers blue, 
I wish that I were happy, 

My little man, like you. 
Is there ever anything in life 

That gives such pleasure true 
As this first pair of trousers, 

So stunning and so new? 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Little man, little man, 

You with sturdy stride and bold, 
Pray, have you seen my baby boy? 

He passed this way, I'm told. 
His little dress is fresh and white, 

His clustering curls are gold 
He's naught else but a baby, 

For he's but three years old ! 

Little man, little man, 

Why, can it really be? 
When I ask if you've seen him, 

You say that you are he? 
You, with your stride and trousers, 

And magic pockets three? 
"Tis quite hard to believe it, 

You look so strange to me. 

Susie Dawson Brown. 



A CHANGE OF HEART 

" I care for nobody, 

And nobody cares for me," 
Sang Tommy at play, in the sweet new 

hay, 
Where nobody could see. 

So his mother made the fire, 

And searched for the old hen's nest, 

While the sun from its place high overhead 
Went sliding into the west. 
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THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



She filled the water-pail, 
And picked the berries for tea, 

And wondered down in her tender heart 
Where her little boy could be. 

Alone in the dim old barn, 

Tommy grew tired of play, 
When the cows came home and the shad- 
ows fell 

Over the new-mown hay. 

So into the kitchen he ran, 

With a noisy hi! yi! yi! 
His mother had made him a frosted cake; 

She had made him a saucer pie. 

So he gave her a loving hug 
" I will help next time," said he. 

I care for somebody, 

And somebody cares for me." 

Mary F. Butts. 



BOYS 

Now if any one has an easy time 

In this world of push and pull, 
It is not the boy of the family, 

For his hands are always full. 
I'd like to ask who fills the stove? 

Where is the girl that could? 
Who brings in water, lights the fire, 

And splits the kindling wood? 
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THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



And who is it that cleans the walks 

After hours of snowing? 
In summer who keeps down the weeds 

By diligently hoeing? 
And who must harness the faithful horse, 

When the girls would ride about? 
And who must clean the carriage? 

The boy, you'll own, no doubt. 

And who does the many other things 

Too numerous to mention? 
The boy is the " general utility man," 

And really deserves a pension! 
Friends, just praise this boy sometimes, 

When he does his very best; 
And don't always want the easy chair 

When he's taking a little rest. 

Don't let him always be the last 

To see the new magazine; 
And sometimes let the boy be heard, 

As well as to be seen. 
That boys are far from perfect, 

Is understood by all; 
But they have hearts, remember, 

For " men are boys grown tall." 



And when a boy has been working 

His level best for days, 
It does him good, I tell you, 

To have some hearty praise. 
298 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



He's not merely a combination 

Of muddy boots and noise, 
And he likes to be looked upon 

As one of the family joys. 

The Gem. 



A BOY'S LAMENT 

I don't like grown folks very much; 

'Pears like they don't like me; 
In nearly ev'rything I do 

Some fault they're sure to see. 

If I'm playin' in my play-room, 

As quiet as can be, 
They think I'm up to mischief an* 

Come runnin' up to see. 

An' if I run an' laugh an' shout 

They send me off to bed, 
'Cause it almost drives 'em crazy, 

An' nearly splits their head. 

I get all tired out an* cross 

A tryin' to be good, 
An' hate to hear of children who 

Do just the things they should. 

I've got er dandy sled, er course, 

An' heaps er other toys, 
But don't have no fun using 'em 

Like all the other boys. 
299 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



'Cause ma's so feared that I'll get cold, 

I don't get out till spring, 
An' then the snow's all mushy like 

An' marbles is the thing. 

In summertime it's 'bout as bad; 

The things I want to do 
Are mostly al'ays just the ones 

She doesn't want me to. 



Yer see, my ma, she never was 

A little boy like me, 
An' so, er course, she doesn't know 

What a boy 'ud like to be. 

An' pa, he ain't no use a-tall 

He dassn't say a word 
' Whatever mother says must go " 
Is all I've ever heard. 

It's dretful queer how he's forgot 
'Bout things boys like to do! 

But p'rhaps when I'm so awful old, 
I'll have forgotten, too. 

An* so, I think, I'd ruther die 

A little boy like me, 
Than live to be as horrid as 
The grown folks have to be. 

Elisabeth Thomson Ordway. 
300 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



BUD'S VIEWS 

Old folks think it's fun to be 
Just a little boy like me 
Think that all I got to do 
Is to play the whole day through 
And to stay out in the sun, 
Havin' every kind of fun. 
Poets write about the joys 
That belong to little boys, 
But no poet's written yet 
'Bout the scoldings that they get. 

Wonder what old folks would say 
If, a dozen times a day, 
They were scrubbed until it hurt 
Coz their mothers hated dirt. 
Wonder how they'd like to be 
Treated just the same as me 
An* as soon as they were fed, 
Chased up-stairs an* put to bed, 
Or when they've a stummick ache, 
Castor oil be forced to take. 

'Spose those long-haired poet chaps 
Had to sit in women's laps, 
An' be kissed an' hugged a lot, 
If they wanted to or not; 
'Spose while playin' one-o'-cat 
It had come their turn to bat, 
Bet they wouldn't wear a grin, 
If their mothers called 'em in, 
Chased 'em on an errand for 
Something at the grocery store. 
301 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Old folks think it's fun to be 
Five years old an' young like me, 
An' the poets sing the joys 
Of the happy little boys, 
But right now I'm telling you 
Boys have lots of troubles, too 
Lots of things to make 'em mad, 
They're not always feeling glad. 
When you're five years old, By Jing! 
You get blamed for everything. 

Edgar A. Guest. 

Copyrighted, 1919, by Edgar A. Guest. 



HEADACHE JES' 'FORE SCHOOL 

I guess my health is gittin' poor, 

Er somep'ner the kin* 
For every mornin' jist as sure 

(Especially if it's fine) 
I git sich offul pains 

'At ma says : " It's jes* cru'l 
Ter make 'at boy study with 

Such headaches jes' 'fore school." 

Ma thinks my mind is breakin' down 

From learnin' of so much. 
She puts wet towels on my head, 

An' chopped up ice, an' such, 
302 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



An* tries ter git me off ter bed, 

But pa says he's no fool, 
He thinks birch oil's the only stuff 

Fer headaches jes' 'fore school. 

An' teacher, too, don't symp'thize 

'Ith boys wot's feelin' bad, 
Fer, soon's she sees me mopin' in, 

She says : " Now ain't 'at sad 
Ter make them suff'rin' children works I 

Young man, set on 'at stool 
An' do them sums." Huh ! she makes fun 

Of headaches jes' 'fore school. 

'Tis kind'r funny, though, how soon 

I'm over bein' sick, 
An' me an' Jim (Jim, he gits cramps), 

We sneak off down t' the crick 
An' go in swimmin'. Gee! We got 

A bully divin' pool 
An' spring board. Gosh ! you bet they cure 

Them headaches jes' 'fore school. 

An' fishin', too. We got a raft 

An' dandy hooks an' lines, 
Ketch bulkheads, lots an' sunfish. Say! 

Down underneath them pines 
They bite like thunder! Settin' there, 

Feet swashin', nice an' cool. 
Pains, nothin' ! Say, d' you ever git 

Them headaches jes' 'fore school? 

Maurice C. Johnson. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

A BOY'S CONFESSION 

Aunt Kate she said the other day, 
" Jim's nothin' but a boy," she said. 
That's jus' the way I heard her say 
As if she wisht all boys was dead. 
She ac' as if boys wasn't fit 
To be alive a little bit. 

Pa, all the time he says: " Here, James! 

Don't let me speak to you again ! 

Don't call your little sister names ! 

Don't tease the cat! Don't scare the hen! 

Now do be quiet if you can, 

An' ac' a little like a man." 

Seems like they ain't no room for me 
To move or make a bit of noise. 
I wish Aunt Kate, I just wisht she 
Was more than forty 'leven boys, 
All set up in a stiff back chair, 
An' made to stay all quiet there. 

I didn't go to sass Aunt Kate, 
" Shut up," was all I ever said. 
An' Pa, he turned an' made me skate 
Out of the room up here to bed, 
An' made me leave the table too, 
Jus' when I wasn't half way through. 

Ma she came up, an' she's been here. 
I heard her creaking up the stairs. 
She say to me : " I come, my dear, 
To tuck you in an* hear your prayers." 
An' then I choked an' boo ! hoo ! 
An' cried an' cried, and Ma cried, too. 
34 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



I'm sorry now I sassed Aunt Kate, 

An' hurt her feelin's like I do. 

'Cause Ma says she's been sick of late 

With nervous prostration, too. 

An' Pa was worried to-night 

'Cause the store business don't go right. 

An' Ma she'll tell me I shall pray 
That I don't do them things again, 
An' God fergive me, which I say 
I ast fer Jesus sake amen. 
An' I fergive Aunt Kate an* Pa; 
An' every one and love my Ma ! 

Milton O. Nelson. 



MOTHERS 

Mothers are the queerest things! 

'Member when John went away, 
All but mother cried and cried 

When they said good-by that day. 
She just talked, and seemed to be 

Not the slightest bit upset 
Was the only one who smiled ! 

Others' eyes were streaming wet. 
But when John come back again 

On a furlough, safe and sound, 
With a medal for his deeds 

And without a single wound, 
While the rest of us hurrahed, 

Laughed and joked and danced about, 
Mother kissed him, then she cried 

Cried and cried like all git out ! 

The Century. 
3S 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

WHEN TEACHER GETS CROSS 

" When the teacher gets cross and her brown 

eyes get black 
And her pencil comes down on the desk with 

a whack, 

We chilluns in class sits up straight in a line, 
As if we had rulers instead of a spine. 
It's scary to cough, and it's not safe to 

grin- 
When the teacher gets cross and the dimples 

goes in. 

" When the teacher gets cross, the tables all 

mix, 
And the ones and the sevens begins playing 

tricks ; 

The pluses and minus is just little smears 
Where the cry babies cry all their slates up 

with tears. 
The figgers won't add and they act up like 

sin 
When the teacher gets cross and the dimples 

goes in. 

" When the teacher gets cross, the readers 

gets bad, 

The lines jiggle round till the chilluns is sad, 
And Billyboy puffs and gets red in the face, 
As if he and lessons were running a race, 
Till she hollers out 'Next!' as sharp as a 

pin 
When the teacher gets cross and the dimples 

goes in. 

306 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



When the teacher gets good, her smile is so 

bright 
The tables gets straight and the readers gets 

right, 

The pluses and minus comes trooping along, 
And figgers add up and stops being wrong, 
And we chilluns would like (but we dassent) 

to shout, 
When the teacher gets good and the dimples 

comes out." 



When you first teach a child to understand 
Work means the loving heart and helping hand; 
When you first teach a youth to read and write 
You give the key to a lifelong delight. 
Who adds the charm of music to his days 
Attunes his soul to melody and praise. 
Who studies art enters the court serene, 
The enchanted land where Nature reigns a 

queen. 

Who loves all beauty doth a poet grow, 
And wins the highest joy that mortals know. 

James B. Wiggin. 



37 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



WHAT WOULD YOU DO? 

If you were a little girl again, 

Mother Mahone, Mahone, 
What would you do the long, long day, 

Playing alone, alone? 
If I were a little girl again, 

Nora, my own, my own, 
With just one long, long sunny day 

To play alone, alone, 
If I were a little girl again, 

And fairy folk were true, 
If paper dolls had human hearts, 

And all the world were new, 
Ah, listen, listen, little one, 

I'll whisper what I'd do : 



"To the violet's lips I'd put my ear 
And hush my heart that I might hear 

The secret of its sweetness; 
I'd search beneath the fungus shelves 
For glimpses of goblins, gnomes and elves; 
I'd run a race with the laughing brook, 
Or chase it to some witch-kept nook, 

Whose spell would stay its fleetness. 



I'd hide in the haunt of the mocking bird 
Till I learned its melody word for word; 
Full length upon the moss I'd lie, 
Content beneath the changing sky 
In that one day's completeness. 
308 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



" If I were a little girl again, 

Even as you, as you, 
If fairy folk were truly folk, 

And all the world were new, 
I'd just be happy, little one, 

Till the long, long day was through.' 



A LIFE-LESSON 

There! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your doll, I know; 
And your tea-set blue, 
And your play-house, too, 
Are things of long ago ; 
But childish troubles will soon pass by, 
There ! little girl ; don't cry ! 

There! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your slate, I know; 
And the glad, wild ways 
Of your schoolgirl days 
Are things of the long ago ; 
But life and love will soon come by, 
There ! little girl ; don't cry ! 

There! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your heart, I know; 
And the rainbow gleams 
Of your youthful dreams 
Are things of the long ago ; 
But Heaven holds all for which you sigh,- 
There ! little girl ; don't cry ! 

James Whit comb Riley. 
39 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



WHEN WE LAY OUR DOLLS AWAY 

What is it, dear heart ? " Too big for dolls ? " 

Is that what the wise folks say? 
You " must say good-by to your childhood 
friends, 

For you're twelve years old to-day?" 
The dear little lady with flaxen hair 

And the darling with black eyes bright, 
And dearest of all the " raggedy doll " 

Must be hidden away from sight? 

Ah, dear little girl, I know, I know ; 

For the very saddest day 
Is the day that comes to us, one and all, 

When we lay our dolls away; 
The beautiful doll of Innocence, 

And the sturdy doll called Truth, 
And saddest of all the " raggedy doll " 

The unquestioning faith of youth ! 

Florence A. Jones. 



MAIDENHOOD 

Maiden ! with the meek, brown eyes, 
In whose orbs a shadow lies 
Like the dusk in evening skies ! 

Thou whose locks outshine the sun, 
Golden tresses, wreathed in one, 
As the braided streamlets run! 
310 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



Standing, with reluctant feet, 
Where the brook and river meet, 
Womanhood and childhood fleet! 

Gazing, with a timid glance, 
On the brooklet's swift advance, 
On the river's broad expanse ! 

Deep and still, that gliding stream 
Beautiful to thee must seem, 
As the river of a dream. 

Then why pause with indecision, 
When bright angels in thy vision 
Beckon thee to fields Elysian? 

Seest thou shadows sailing by, 
As the dove, with startled eye, 
Sees the falcon's shadow fly? 

Hearest thou voices on the shore, 
That our ears perceive no more, 
Deafened by the cataract's roar? 

O, thou child of many prayers ! 

Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares ! 

Care and age come unawares ! 

Like the swell of some sweet tune, 
Morning rises into noon, 
May glides onward into June. 

Childhood is the bough, where slumbered 
Birds and blossoms many-numbered ; 
Age, that bough with snows encumbered. 

3" 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Gather, then, each flower that grows, 
When the young heart overflows, 
To embalm that tent of snows. 

Bear a lily in thy hand; 

Gates of brass cannot withstand 

One touch of that magic wand. 

Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, 
In thy heart the dew of youth, 
On thy lips the smile of truth. 

O, that dew, like balm, shall steal 
Into wounds that cannot heal, 
Even as sleep our eyes doth seal; 

And that smile, like sunshine, dart 
Into many a sunless heart, 
For a smile of God thou art. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 



FROM THE BLUE BIRD 

LIGHT. 

There are many more Happinesses on Earth 
than people think; but the generality of 
men do not discover them. . . . 

TYI/TYL. 
Here are some little ones : let us run and meet 

them. . . . 

312 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 

LIGHT. 

It is unnecessary: those which interest us will 
pass this way. We have no time to make 
the acquaintance of all the rest. . . . 

TYLTYL. 

How pretty, how very pretty they are ! . . . 
Where do they come from, who are 
they? . . . 

LIGHT. 
They are the Children's Happinesses. . * 

TYLTYL. 
Can one speak to them? 

LIGHT. 

It would be no use. They sing, they dance, 
they laugh, but they do not talk yet. . . . 

TYLTYL (skipping about). 
How do you do? How do you do? . . . 
Oh, look at that fat one laughing! . . . 
What pretty cheeks they have, what 
pretty frocks they have! . . . Are 
they all rich here? . . . 

LIGHT. 

Why, no, here, as everywhere, there are many 
more poor than rich. r T" . 

TYLTYL. 

Where are the poor ones? . .- ; 

3*3 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

LIGHT. 

You can't distinguish them. ... A Child's 
Happiness is always arrayed in all that is 
most beautiful in Heaven and upon 
Earth. 
******* 

(Another troop of HAPPINESSES, a little taller 
than the last, rush into the hall, singing 
at the top of their voice. ) 

******* 

THE HAPPINESS. 
How do you do, Tyltyl? . . . 

TYLTYL. 

Another one who knows me! . . . (To 
LIGHT.) I am getting known wherever 
I go! . . . (To THE HAPPINESS.) 
Who are you? . . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 

Don't you recognize me? . . . I'll wager 
that you don't recognize any one here! 

TYLTYL (a little embarrassed) . 
Why, no. ... I don't know. ... I 
don't remember seeing any of you. . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 

There, do you hear? ... I was sure of 
it! ... He has never seen us ! . . . 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 

> 

(All the other HAPPINESSES burst out 
laughing.) Why, my dear Tyltyl, we 
are the only things you do know! . . . 
We are always around you ! . . . We 
eat, drink, wake up, breathe and live with 
you! . . . 

TYLTYL. 

Oh, yes, just so, I know, I remember. . . . 
But I should like to know what your 
names are. . . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 

I can see that you know nothing. ... I 
am the chief of the Happinesses of your 
home; and all these are the other Happi- 
nesses that live there. . . . 

TYLTYL. 

Then there are Happinesses in my home? . . . 
(All the HAPPINESSES burst out laughing.) 

THE HAPPINESS. 

You heard him! . . . Are there Happi- 
nesses in his home! . . . Why, you 
little wretch, it is crammed with Happi- 
nesses in every nook and cranny ! . . . 
We laugh, we sing, we create enough 
joy to knock down the walls and lift the 
roof; but, do what we may, you see 
nothing and you hear nothing. . . . 
315 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

I hope that in future, you will be a little 
more sensible. . . . Meantime, you 
shall shake hands with the more note- 
worthy of us. ... Then, when you 
reach home again, you will recognize them 
more easily and, at the end of a fine day, 
you will know how to encourage them with 
a smile, to thank them with a pleasant 
word, for they really do all they can to 
make your life easy and delightful. . . . 
Let me introduce myself first : the Happi- 
ness of Being Well, at your service. . . . 
I am not the prettiest, but I am the most 
important. Will you know me again? . . . 
This is the Happiness of Pure Air, who is 
almost transparent. . . . Here is the 
Happiness of Loving one's Parents, who 
is clad in grey and always a little sad, be- 
cause no one ever looks at him. . . . 
Here are the Happiness of the Blue Sky, 
who, of course, is dressed in blue, and the 
Happiness .of the Forest, who, also of 
course, is clad in green: you will see him 
every time ypu go to the window. . . . 
Here, again, is the good Happiness of 
Sunny Hours, who is diamond-coloured, 
and this is the Happiness of Spring, who 
is bright emerald. . . . 

TYLTYL. 
And are you as fine as that every day? 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 

THE HAPPINESS OF BEING WELL. 
Why* yes, it is Sunday every day, in every 
house, when people open their eyes. . . . 
And then, when evening comes, here is 
the Happiness of the Sunsets, who is 
grander than all the kings in the world 
and who is followed by the Happiness of 
Seeing the Stars Rise, who is gilded like 
a god of old. . . . Then, when the 
weather breaks, here are the Happiness of 
the Rain, who is covered with pearls, and 
the Happiness of the Winter Fire, who 
opens his beautiful purple mantle to 
frozen hands. . . . And I have not 
mentioned the best among us, because he 
is nearly a brother of the great limpid Joys 
whom you will see presently: his name is 
the Happiness of Innocent Thoughts, and 
he is the brightest of us all. . . . And 
then here are . . . But really there are 
too many of them! . . . We should 
never have done; and I must first send 
word to the Great Joys, who are right at 
the back, near the gates of Heaven, and 
who have not yet heard of your arrival. 
. . . I will send the Happiness of 
Running Barefoot in the Dew, who is the 
nimblest of us. . . . (To the HAP- 
PINESS OF RUNNING BAREFOOT IN THE 
DEW, who comes forward capering.) Off 
you go! ... 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

THE HAPPINESS. 

(Tall and beautiful angelic figures, clad in 
shimmering dresses, come slowly for- 
ward.) 

TYLTYL. 

How beautiful they are! . . . Why are 
they not laughing? . . . Are they 
not happy? . . . 

LIGHT. 

It is not when one laughs that one is really 
happy. . 

TYLTYL. 
Who are they? . . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 
They are the Great Joys. . . . 

TYLTYL. 
Do you know their names? . 5 . 

THE HAPPIXESS. 
Of course; we often play with them. . . . 

******* 

Here, among the greatest Joys, is the Joy 
of Seeing what is Beautiful, who daily 
adds a few rays to the light that reigns 
amongst us. ... 
318 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 

TYLTYI* 

And there, far away, far away, in the golden 
clouds, the one whom I can hardly see 
when I stand as high as I can on tip-toe? 

* 

THE HAPPINESS. 

That is the Great Joy of Loving. . . . 
But, do what you will, you are ever so 
much too small to see her altogether. . . . 

TYLTYL. 

And over there, right at the back, those who 
are veiled and who do not come near? . . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 

Those are the Joys whom men do not yet 
know. . . . 

TYLTYL. 

What do the others want with us? 5 s 
Why are they standing aside? . . . 

THE HAPPINESS. 

It is before a new Joy who is arriving, perhaps 
the purest that we have here. . . 

TYLTYL. 
Who is it? 

THE HAPPINESS. 

Don't you recognize her yet? . . . But 
take a better look at her, open your two 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

eyes down to the very heart of your 
soul! . . . She has seen you, she has 
seen you! . . . She runs up to you, 
holding out her arms! ... It is 
your mother's Joy, it is the peerless Joy 
of Maternal Love! . . . 
******* 

THE JOY OF MATERNAL LOVE. 
Tyltyl! And Mytyl! . . . What, do I 
find you here ! . . . I never expected 
it! . . . I was very lonely at home; 
and here are you two climbing to that 
Heaven where the souls of all mothers 
beam with joy! . . . But first kisses, 
heaps and heaps of kisses ! . . . Into 
my arms, the two of you ; there is nothing 
on earth that gives greater happiness ! . . . 
Tyltyl, aren't you laughing? . . . Nor 
you either, Mytyl? . . . Don't you 
know your mother's love when you see 
it? . . . Why, look at me: are these 
not my eyes, my lips, my arms? . . . 

TYLTYL. 

Yes, yes, I recognize them, but I did not 
know. . . . You are like Mummy, 
but you are much prettier. . . . 

MATERNAL LOVE. 

Why, of course, I have stopped growing 
old. . . . And every day brings me 
320 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



fresh strength and youth and happi- 
ness. . . . Each of your smiles makes 
me younger by a year. . . . At home, 
that does not show; but here everything 
is seen and it is the truth. . . . 

TYLTYL (wonder-struck, gazing at her 

and kissing her by turns.) 
And that beautiful dress of yours: what is it 
made of? . . . Is it silk, silver or 
pearls? . . . 

MATERNAL LOVE. 

No, it is made of kisses and caresses and lov- 
ing looks. . . . Each kiss you give 
me adds a ray of moon-light or sunshine 
to it. ... 

TYLTYL. 

How funny, I should never have thought that 
you were so rich! . . . Where used 
you to hide it? . . . Was it in the 
cupboard of which Daddy has the 
key? . . . 

MATERNAL LOVE. 

No, no, I always wear it, but people do not 
see it, because people see nothing when 
their eyes are closed. . . . All mothers 
are rich when they love their chil- 
dren. . . . There are no poor moth- 
321 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



ers, no ugly ones, no old ones. Their love 
is always the most beautiful of the Joys. 
. . . And, when they seem most sad, 
it needs but a kiss which they receive or 
give to turn all their tears into stars in 
the depths of their eyes. . . . 

TYLTYL (looking at her with 
astonishment ) . 

Why, yes, it's true, your eyes are filled with 
stars. . . . And they are really your 
eyes, only they are much more beauti- 
ful. . . . And this is your hand too, 
with the little ring on it. ... It even 
has the burn which you gave it one even- 
ing when lighting the lamp. . . . But 
it is much whiter; and how delicate the 
skin is! . . . There seems to be light 
flowing through it. ... Doesn't it 
do any work like the one at home? . . . 

^ MATERNAL LOVE. 

Why, yes, it is the very same: did you never 
see that it becomes quite white and fills 
with light the moment it fondles you? . . . 

TYLTYL. 

It's wonderful, Mummy: you have the same 
voice also; but you speak much better 
than you do at home. . . . 
322 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



MATERNAL LOVE. 

At home, one has too much to do and there is 
no time. . . . But what one does not 
say one hears all the same. . . * . Now 
that you have seen me, will you know me 
again, in my torn dress, when you go back 
to the cottage to-morrow? . . . 

TYLTYL. 

I don't want to go back. . . . As you are 
here, I want to stay also, as long as you 
remain. . . . 

MATERNAL LOVE. 

But it's just the same thing: I am down be- 
low, we are all down below. . . . You 
have come up here only to realize and to 
learn, once and for all, how to see me 
when you see me down below. . . . 
Do you understand, Tyltyl dear? . . . 
You believe yourself in Heaven; but 
Heaven is wherever you and I kiss each 
other. . . . There are not two 
mothers; and you have no other. . . . 
Every child has only one; and it is always 
the same one and always the most beauti- 
ful ; but you have to know her and to know 
how to look. 

Maurice Maeterlinck. 
3*3 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE MOTHER'S PRAYER 

Starting forth on life's rough way, 

Father, guide them ; 
Oh ! we know not what of harm 

May betide them ! 
'Neath the shadow of Thy wing, 

Father, hide them ! 
Waking, sleeping, Lord, we pray, 

Go beside them. 



When in prayer they cry to Thee, 

Do Thou hear them ; 
From the stains of sin and shame 

Do Thou clear them; 
'Mid the quicksands and the rocks 

Do Thou steer them; 
In temptation, trial, grief, 

Be Thou near them. 

Unto Thee we give them up, 

Lord receive them ; 
In the world we know must be 

Much to grieve them, 
Many striving oft and strong 

To deceive them; 
Trustful in Thy hands of love 

We must leave them. 

William Cullen Bryant. 



324 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



AT LIFE'S THRESHOLD 

Little life from out the life divine, 
Little heart so near and dear to mine, 
Little bark new launched upon life's sea 
In the sunny days of infancy, 
Little comer on our shore of Time, 
Little ray from out God's great sublime, 
Little traveller from eternity, 
May my love protect and shelter thee. 

In the passage through our human state 

Many dark and dreary days await; 

Many are the burdens must be borne, 

Many are the times our hearts are torn. 

These are in thy pathway, little one, 

Ere thy journey through our world be done. 

From the stings of all adversity 

May my love protect and shelter thee. 

For, enwrapped invisibly thou art 
In a tendril reaching from my heart; 
And around thy tiny form entwine 
Love-chords from thy mother's heart and 

mine. 

From some land of morning hast thou come, 
Like a gleam of sunshine in our home; 
And, my child, whate'er thy lot may be, 
May our love protect and shelter thee. 

/. A. Edgerton. 



3*5 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



THE CHILDREN 

Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman's, 

And the fountains of feeling will flow, 
When I think of the paths steep and stony 

Where the feet of the dear ones must go. 
Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them, 

Of the tempest of Fate blowing wild; 
Oh, there is nothing on earth so holy 

As the innocent heart of a child ! 

They are idols of hearts and of households, 

They are angels of God in disguise; 
His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses, 

His glory still gleams in their eyes; 
Oh, those truants from home and from heaven, 

They have made me more manly and mild! 
And I know how Jesus could liken 

The kingdom of God to a child. 

I ask not for the dear ones, 

All radiant, as others have done. 
But that life may have just enough shadow 

To temper the glare of the sun ; 
I would pray God to guard them from evil 

But my prayer would bound back to myself; 
Ah ! a seraph may pray for a sinner, 

But a sinner must pray for himself. 

The twig is so easily bended, 

I have banished the rule and the rod, 
I have taught them the goodness of knowl- 
edge, 

They have taught me the goodness of God ; 
326 



THE CHILDREN AND THE CHEERFUL LIFE 



My heart is a dungeon of darkness, 

Where I shut them from breaking a rule; 

My frown is sufficient correction; 
My love is the law of the school. 

I shall leave the old house in the Autumn, 

To traverse the threshold no more; 
Ah ! how I shall sigh for the dear ones 

That meet me each morning at the door! 
I shall miss the " good-nights " and the kisses 

And the gush of their innocent glee, 
The group on the green, and the flowers 

That are brought every morning to me. 

I shall miss them at morning and at evening, 

Their song in the school and the street; 
I shall miss the low hum of their voices, 

And the tramp of their delicate feet. 
When the lessons and tasks are all ended, 

And death says, " The school is dismissed ! " 
May the little ones gather around me, 

To bid me good-night and be kissed. 

Charles Dickens. 



3*7 



PART VI 

"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPE- 
FULLY THAN TO ARRIVE" 



"You can measure a man's greatness by the length 
of his vision into the future." 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPE- 
FULLY THAN TO ARRIVE" 



Hope, like the gleaming taper's light, 

Adorns and cheers the way; 
And still, as darker grows the night, 

Emits a brighter ray. 

Oliver Goldsmith. 



" Every heart that has beat strong and 
cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it 
in the world, and bettered the tradition of man- 
kind." 



Hope springs eternal in the human breast: 
Man never is, but always to be blest. 
The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home, 
Rests and expatiates in a life to come. 
Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutored mind 
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind. 

Alexander Pope. 
33 1 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Be like the bird, that halting in her flight 

Awhile on boughs too slight, 
Feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, 

Knowing that she hath wings. 

Victor Hugo. 



" This pretty bird, oh, how she flies and sings I 
How could she do so if she had not wings? 
Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my 

peace; 
When I believe and sing, my doubtings 

cease." 



The heart that trusts, forever sings, 
And feels as light as it had wings, 
A well of peace within it springs, 
Come good or ill." 



Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. 
I drink at it ; but while I drink I see the sandy 
bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin 
current slides away, but eternity remains. I 
would drink deeper ; fish in the sky, whose bot- 
tom is pebbly with stars. 

Henry D. Thoreau. 
332 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; 

'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 

And intimates eternity to man. 

The soul, secured in her existence, smiles 
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. 
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years, 
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds. 

Joseph Addison. 



Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: 

The soul that rises with us, our life's Star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar: 
Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 
But trailing clouds of glory do we come 
From God, who is our home. 

William W.ordsworth. 



What is excellent, 
As God lives, is permanent; 
Hearts are dust, hearts' loves remain; 
Heart's love will meet thee again. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
333 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

To enter the region in which it seems better 
to wonder than to know, to aspire rather than 
to define, to hope rather than to be satisfied. 
A spirit which walks expectantly along this 
path grows to leam that the secret of such 
happiness as we can attain lies in simplicity 
and courage, in sincerity and loving-kindness; 
it grows more and more averse to material 
ambitions and mean aims ; and more and more 
desires silence and recollection and contempla- 
tion. In this mood, the words of the wise fall 
like the tolling of sweet, grave bells upon the 
soul, the dreams of poets come like music heard 
at evening from the depth of some enchanted 
forest, wafted over a wide water; we know not 
what instrument it is whence the music wells, 
by what fingers swept, by what lips blown ; but 
we know that there is some presence there that 
is sorrowful or glad, who has power to trans- 
late his dream into concord of sweet sounds. 
Such a mood need not withdraw us from life, 
from toil, from kindly relationships, from deep 
affections; but it will rather send us back to 
life with a renewed and joyful zest, with a de- 
sire to discern the true quality of beautiful 
things, of fair thoughts, of courageous hopes, 

334 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

of wise designs. It will make us tolerant and 
forgiving, patient with stubbornness and 
prejudice, simple in conduct, sincere in word, 
gentle in deed; with pity for weakness, with 
affection for the lonely and the desolate, with 
admiration for all that is noble and serene and 
strong. 

Arthur C. Benson. 
From "From a College Window." 



Such fun to keep on longing, 
Such joy to dream our dream 
With gladness and with laughter 
As the days around us gleam. 
A fine old world for gladness 
That comes as sure as fate, 
As springtime with the lilies 
When lilac decks the gate. 
Such cheer to put by sighing, 
And with our heart's best love 
Keep struggling and keep trying, 
With trust in things above. 

Bentztown Bard. 

Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 



335 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how; 
Everything is happy now, 

Everything is upward striving; 
"Tis as easy now for the heart to be true 
As for grass to be green or skies to be blue 

'Tis the natural way of living. 
Who knows whither the clouds have fled? 

In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; 
And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, 
The heart forgets its sorrow and ache. 

James Russell Lowell. 



Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! 

And let the young Lambs bound 

As to the tabor's sound! 
We in thought will join your throng, 

Ye that pipe and ye that play, 

Ye that through your hearts to-day 

Feel the gladness of May ! 

And oh, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and 

Groves, 

Think not of any severing of our loves ! 
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; 
I love the brooks which down their channels 

fret, 
Even more than when I tripped as lightly as 

they; 

The innocent brightness of a new-born Day 
Is lovely yet : 

33 6 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

Thanks to the human heart by which we 

live, 

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, 
To me the meanest flower that blows can 

give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 

William Wordsworth. 



SUNLIGHT OF THE HEART 

It's the sunlight of the heart that makes sweet 

the chosen way; 
It's the sunlight of the heart, not the sunlight of 

the day. 
It's the sunlight of the heart 

Keeps us toiling, cold or heat, 
With the blossoms in our dreams 
And the robins singing sweet. 

It's the sunshine of the heart keeps the world 

from turning gray ; 
It's the sunshine of the heart keeps the spirits 

fresh with play. 
It's the sunshine of the heart, 

Stored with beauty of the years, 
Keeps the shadows from the soul, 
Heals the heartache and the tears. 
337 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



It's the sunlight of the heart makes us young 

along the line 
With the touch of morning song in a world love 

makes divine. 
It's the sunlight of the heart 

Helps us laugh when troubles loom, 
And it leads us with its laughter 
On the way life walks to bloom. 

It's the sunshine of the heart makes the sunshine 

of the day 
Just to help us chase the care and the dark and 

doubt away. 
It's the sunshine of the heart 

That shall lead us, worn and pale, 
To the beauty of the lilies 
In that last eternal vale. 

Bentztown Bard. 

Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 



SING STRONGER, HEART 

Sing blither, heart, along the shortening way; 

Since thou must sing, 
Attune they lute strings to some lighter lay, 

Some air of spring; 

Shut out the minor of the autumn rain, 
The crooning of the east wind, from thy strain, 

Sing blither, heart ! 
338 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

Sing gladder, heart ! the world is full of woe, 

And thou canst sing; 
For such a gracious gift, what dost thou woe, 

Remembering, 

Weave gladness in thy song, and it may bring 
New strength to some bruised heart or wounded 
wing. 

Sing gladder, heart! 

Sing stronger, heart, and clearer be thy tones 

Of hope and trust, 
Yet higher keyed thy psalm, thy altar stones 

Raised past the dust! 

The shortened hand may fall, but ne'er forget 
The Lord is in His holy temple, yet, 
. Sing stronger, heart! 

Christian Work. 



WITH THE LARK 

Night is for sorrow and dawn is for joy, 
Chasing the troubles that fret and annoy; 
Darkness for sighing and daylight for song, 
Cheery and chaste the strain, heartfelt and 

strong. 
All the night through, though I moan in the 

dark, 

I wake in the morning to sing with the lark. 
339 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Deep in the midnight, the rain whips the 

leaves, 

Softly and sadly the wood-spirit grieves. 
But when the first hue of dawn tints the sky, 
I shall shake out my wings like the birds and 

be dry; 
And though, like the raindrops, I grieved 

through the dark, 
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the 

lark. 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 



IN TUNE 

Keeping in tune as we pass our way, 
Keeping in tune with the sweet of the day, 
The surge of the struggle, the gift of the fight, 
Keeping in tune to the bugles of light, 
The measures of beauty that over us ring, 
Keeping in tune to the truth as we swing 
On to our labor and on to our rest 
With ever a tune of life's love in our breast. 

Keeping in tune to the beauty of earth, 
Keeping in tune to its sunshine and mirth; 
Keeping in tune to its birds and its flowers, 
Its moonlight and starlight, its vines and its 

bowers : 

Keeping in tune to the music that pours 
Around the sweet world of the green out o* 

doors, 

340 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

To the lilt and the laughter, the brightness 

and glee, 
That glow when love lifts us and sets our 

souls free. 

Bentztown Bard. 

Copyrighted by Southern Press Syndicate. 



MY DESIRE 

This for to-day is my desire 
To keep myself in wise control, 
Only toward that which makes for good 
To bend the forces of my soul. 

To feel the Spirit in the wind, 
The strength that cometh from the hills, 
The sweet and tender messages 
With which the air about me thrills. 

Nor cry for past, nor forward stretch, 
Nor yield my petty woes a place, 
But take whate'er each hour unfolds 
With thankful and obedient grace. 

For this one day to me is given, 
I take with joy the gift divine, 
Each moment hold in sacred fee 
That I may make the vision mine. 

Lucy L. Montgomery. 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 



Therefore to whom turn I but to Thee, the in- 
effable Name? 
Builder and Maker, Thou, of houses not made 

with hands ! 
What, have fear of change from Thee who art 

ever the same? 
Doubt that Thy power can fill the heart that 

Thy power expands? 
There shall never be one lost good ! What was, 

shall live as before ; 
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying 

sound ; 
What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so 

much good more; 

On earth the broken arcs ; in heaven, a perfect 
round. 

All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, 

shall exist; 
Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor 

good, nor power 
Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives 

for the melodist, 
When eternity affirms the conception of an 

hour. 
The high that proved too high, the heroic for 

earth too hard, 
The passion that left the ground to lose itself 

in the sky, 
Are music sent up to God by the lover and the 

bard ; 

Enough that he heard it once; we shall hear it 
by-and-by. 

Robert Browning. 
342 



"IT IS BETTER TO TRAVEL HOPEFULLY 
THAN TO ARRIVE" 

I know not where His islands lift 
Their fronded palms in air; 

I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond His love and care. 

Oh, brothers! if my faith is vain, 

If hopes like these betray, 
Pray for me that my feet may gain 

The sure and safer way. 

And Thou, O Lord ! by whom are seen 

Thy creatures as they be, 
Forgive me if too close I lean 

My human heart on Thee. 

John Greenleaf Whittier. 



Love that wilt not let me go, 
I rest my weary soul in Thee; 

1 give Thee back the life I owe, 
That in Thine ocean depths its flow 

May richer, fuller be. 

O Light that followest all my way, 

I yield my flickering torch to Thee; 
My heart restores its borrowed ray, 
That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day 
May brighter, fairer be. 

343 



THE GOOD CHEER BOOK 

Joy that seekest me through pain, 
I cannot close my heart to Thee; 

1 trace the rainbow through the rain, 
And feel the promise is not vain 

That morn shall tearless be. 

George Matheson. 



Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know 
What rainbows teach, and sunsets show? 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



344 



"AT EVENING-TIME IT SHALL BE LIGHT." 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 

Page 

Addison, Joseph 333 

Akers, Elizabeth 206-217 

Arnold. Matthew 38 

Babcock, Maltbie Davenport 87-100 

Bailey, Philip James 81 

Bangs, John Kendrick 36 

Bard, Bentztown 33-134-158-210-335-337-340 

Bashford, H. H 148 

Bennett, Arnold 74 

Benson, Arthur C 185-186-190-334 

Bolton, Sarah Knowles 84 

Bonar, Horatio 216 

Briscoe, Margaret Sutton 279 

Brooke, Stopford A. 184 

Brown, Susie Dawson 295 

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett 55-99-118 

Browning, Robert 88-60-342 

Brunton, William 194 

Bryant, William Cullen 43-56-324 

Buckham, James 89 

Budd, Myra Hummel 276 

"Bulletin, L. A. W." 131 

Burns, Robert 65 

Butts, Mary F. 226-296 

Byron, Lord 53 

Call, Annie Payson 121 

Campbell, Bessie Warren 280 

Canning, Josephine 35 

Gary, Alice , . . 175 

Century, The 805 

Channiner, Wm. Henry 86 

Charles, Elizabeth 99 

Cincinnati Enquirer 286 

Cincinnati Times-Star 26 

Commonwealth, Christian 

Companion, Woman's Home 277 

Cook, Edmnnd Vance 92-129 

Cook, Rose Terry 263 

347 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 

Page 

Cornell, Annie S. 285 

Cowper 187 

Crandall, O. IL . . . 29 

Crane, Dr. Frank . 66-136 

Crannell, Elizabeth 71 

Crosby, Ernest 190 

Daly, T. A. 176 

Dickens, Charles 208-326 

Dickinson, Martha Gilbert 47 

Dolliver, Clara G 289 

Doppman, Hannah Leary 249 

Dresser, Horatio W 116 

Dubois, Julian A. 209 

Dunbar, Paul Laurence 228-230-278-339 

Edgerton, J. A. 325 

Eliot, George 264 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo . 37-50-57-81-122-143-191-225-333-344 

Field, Eugene 193-200-274-284-288 

Foss, Sam Walter 5-90-125-126-261 

Francis, Elizabeth H 157 

Gem, The 297 

Gilbert, W. S 129 

Gilman, Charlotte Perkins 60-120 

Goldsmith, Oliver 331 

Green, Roy Farrell 86 

Griggs, Edward Howard 83-105 

Guest, Edgar A. 42-130-283-290-301 

Hale, Robert Beverly 215 

Havergal, Frances Ridley 70 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel 178 

Hayes, Florence A 232 

Heath, Gertrude E 274 

Hebe 295 

Herald, Los Angeles 197 

Herbert, Blanche B. 192-219 

Herbert, George 99 

Hlgginson. Ella 48 

Hodges, Leigh Mitchell 45-253 

Hosmer, Frederick L 104-106 

Hubbard, Elbert 91 

Hugo, Victor 332 

Hutt, Frank Walcott 181 

Ingelow, Jean 31-100-194-263 

Isaacson, Charles D 188 

348 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 



Jackson, Arthur Austin ........... 271 

Jackson, Helen Hunt ....... *.... 140 

James, William .............. 117 

Johnson, Finley .............. 213 

Johnson, Maurice C. ....... ...... 302 

Jones, Florence A. ............. 310 

Keats, John ...... , ......... 40 

Keller, Helen ........ ..... 68-139-179 

Kipling, Rudyard ......,, ...... 93 

Kiser, S. E .............. 21-182-202 

Kllngle, George .............. 239 

Lakey, Charles D. . . . , ......... 35 

Larcom, Lucy ........... 183-184-191-265 

Le Gallienne, Richard ........... . 281 

Leonard, Priscilla ............. 81-214 

Lincoln, Abraham ............. 97-237 

Longfellow, Henry W ...... 51-150-269-271-272-310 

Lowell, James Russell . . ........ 46-101-336 

Macleod, Norman ..... . ........ 238 

Maeterlinck, Maurice .......... 77-180-312 

Malloch, Douglas .............. 265 

Markham, Edwin .............. 88 

Matheson, George .............. 343 

Matson, Mabel Cornelia . . ......... 281 

May, Julia Harris ............. 162-251 

McDonald, George ............. 275 

Miller, Christine .............. 113 

Milton, John ............... 148 

Mitchell, Donald G ......... ..... 229 

M'Kinsey, Folger .. i ..... ...... 25 

Montgomery, Lucy L ............. 841 

Monthly, Domestic ..... *** 199 

Muse, Will D ....... ......... 245 

Nelson, Milton O ....... ........ 304 

Ordway, Elizabeth Thomson .......... 299 

Oxenham, Jqhn ..... ......... 77 

Park, John Edgar ..... ..... 19-156-180 

Payne, John Howard ..... ....... 207 

Perry, Carlotta ...... . ....... 147 

Pope, Alexander ..... . r- *-"" .... 331 

Post, Houston ............... 141 

Procter, Bryan W. ..... ....... 29-53-196 

Record, Medical Missionary ..... ..... 252 

Rexford, Eben E ............... 242 

349 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 

Page 

Riley, James Whitcomb 217-225-229-233-309 

Roosevelt, Theodore , 102 

Buskin, John .*;, .4. 34 

Saleeby, a W., M. D 120-138 

Sangster, Margaret , , . 149 

Saturday, Every Other 212 

Scull, Annie L 118 

Service, Robert W. 58-125-126-128 

Shakespeare , 30 

Sill, Edward Rowland 24-67 

Smith, Rachel G 225 

Smith, Mrs. J. E 273 

Smyth, Marion M 256 

Somerset, Joan , 159 

Spofford, Harriet Prescott 275 

Stevenson, Charles W 85 

Stevenson, Robert Louis 1-220 

Sylvester, Elisabeth 195 

Syme, Jane Grey 84 

Symonds, John A 107 

Taylor, Jane 237 

Tennyson, Alfred 151 

Thaxter, Cella . 132 

Thoreau, Henry D. . . . i 57-227-332 

Townsend, Mary Ashley 28 

Transcript, Boston 55 

Trine, Ralph Waldo 117-119 

Twain, Mark 169 

Wordsworth, William 21-39-41-48-52-72-101-189-233-333-336 

Wagner, Charles 20-76-135-139-163 

Waterman, Nixon 147 

Watson, William 27 

Weekly, British 69 

West, James H 83 

White, Bouck 95 

Whittier. John Greenleaf 54-100-343 

Whitney, Gertrude Capen . 250 

Wiggtn, James B 307 

Wilcox, Ella Wheeler 115-157-239-243-258 

Wilder, Marshall P 155 

Wood, Henry 115 

Woodruff, Nannie H 73 

Work, Christian . . . 838 

Young, Ella Flagg T9 

350 



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